


exhausting inexhaustibles

by The Byger (Byacolate)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Stiles, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Courtship, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Female Derek Hale, Female Ejaculation, Female Stiles Stilinski, Fempreg, Girl!Derek, Girl!Stiles, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Derek, Omega Verse, Possessive Behavior, Pregnancy, Role Reversal, Rule 63, as in the ejaculation that can impregnate, which is a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:05:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byacolate/pseuds/The%20Byger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We’re not spending the first night of your heat on the goddamn sofa.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story reads as two parts to each chapter; the first is always in the present following the progression of their pregnancy from beginning to end, the second is always in the past and follows their budding relationship. It all comes full circle in the end.

Desiree reached for the glass of water on the arm of the chair beside her, picking it up with trembling fingers. Stiles was on her way home from her father’s house; she would be there in a matter of minutes. There was really no reason to call her just to get her to speed home. Desiree’s heat was only about a day early, which was hardly reason enough to call for alarm. The ache was growing stronger, pulsing through her with every heartbeat, but it was nothing that she couldn’t handle. She was a Hale after all, one of the oldest werewolf families in the state, and properly mated at that; who was she to bow to outdated omega stereotypes, the ones that suggested she might become a writhing, whining mess when her heat hit without her alpha present.

 

She knew that it wasn’t entirely safe to leave the windows open once the heat cycle began; if she’d been so reckless years ago when she lived alone in town, it could have been outright detrimental. But she knew she was safe, tucked away as she was in the middle of the preserve, her home and her body very obviously claimed with an alpha’s scent. And besides, she was uncomfortably hot with the quiet house all closed up, and a breeze licked pleasantly over the clean sweat at her throat.

 

Turning the volume up a couple notches, Desiree settled back against the sofa when she realized she was sitting too rigid and stiff on the edge of her seat. Deep breath in through her nose, out through her mouth. It was far from too much for her to withstand.

 

It was only about fifteen minutes later when her ears picked up the sound of car tires on gravel in the distance, and a moment later until she could hear Stiles’ heartbeat. No doubt she had picked up the scent of heat downwind by now, and really, as a trainee for the police force she shouldn’t be speeding down a forest road. Not that Desiree would report her.

 

“Dee? Geez, you could’ve told me you were already-” Stiles cut herself off when she stumbled in through the front door upon seeing how wrung out Desiree had become.

 

The lights were dim, but Desiree could still see Stiles’ pupils dilate the longer they stared at one another. Slowly, deliberately, Stiles looked away and calmly locked and bolted the front door behind herself. Desiree must have made a noise when Stiles passed in front of the television to turn it off and shut the window next, because a rare growl emanated from the alpha’s throat.

 

“Should have known. I went off the,” Desiree licked her dry lips, “the birth control, makes sense that it could be early.” She hurriedly put down the glass of water because Stiles was finished closing the blinds, and the predatory edge to her walk only made the shaking in Desiree’s hands worse.

 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have left you alone. Should never leave you alone.” Stiles reached up and raked a hand through her close-cropped hair, just staring down at Desiree. But then she was sitting on the couch, legs straddling Desiree’s thighs and knowing that once she got those tight jeans off, the smell of her would be so intoxicating that she wouldn’t be able to think straight.

 

“We’d kill each other if you never left me alone,” Desiree pointed out, the buzzing under her skin going blissfully silent when Stiles pressed her palms against Desiree’s arms. She licked her lips and tilted her head back, baring her throat under Stiles’ rapt gaze. Hot, possessive hands crawled under the hem of her shirt as Stiles leaned down and tried to devour her mouth with an urgency that had Desiree shaking under her.

 

Stiles was sucking at a spot on her throat when she pulled back. “You’re burning up. How long since the heat started?” she asked, and worked briskly to get Desiree much, much more naked. Within half a minute she was down to her black bra and underwear.

 

“About... an hour, maybe two? Please Stiles, I need you.” She twitched as her mate rubbed two fingers down over her panties, the black cotton already soaked through.

 

“I know,” Stiles murmured, kissing Desiree’s chest and stomach as she went to her knees on the floor between Desiree’s legs. “I know, babe. I’ll take care of you.” She helped work Desiree’s panties off and down to her ankles before soothingly rubbing up and down her thighs and leaning in to drag the flat of her tongue over Desiree’s cunt.

 

The omega bit her lip, but that didn’t stop the needy moan reverberating in her throat. Eventually they would need to make it to their bedroom, because they had toys there with big knots that would give her some relief, but there wasn’t too much of a chance that they would be leaving the couch for the moment.

 

She’d waited too long and Stiles’ hands and mouth were too much, so it didn’t take more than a moment for Stiles to bring her to her peak and make her cry out with release. Her body bucked and Stiles moved with it, mouthing at her until it was just this side of too much. She leaned back just enough to lick her lips and nuzzled the soft, hot skin of Desiree’s pelvis with her nose. “You smell fucking edible,” she groaned. Desiree put her shaky hands on Stiles’ shoulder blades just to touch, spreading her palms out over the vibrant bursting lotus and the wolf.

 

“You smell... like you haven’t come in me yet,” Desiree managed to say without a stutter. The orgasm had hardly taken the edge off, but at least her hands had stopped shaking. Stiles let out a laugh, and quickly shimmied out of her pants, revealing the sunburst tattoo on her hip.

 

“You’re so bossy. No wonder most people assume you’re an alpha.”

 

“Nothing I haven’t heard before. When are you gonna come up with new material?” Desiree snarked, easily winding her arms around Stiles’ shoulders and two legs around her waist when Stiles hefted her up. A pulse and a tremor ran through Desiree at the manhandling and the heat of Stiles’ hands cupping her ass.

 

“Old, classic lines hold a special place in my heart.” She gave a crooked grin, which slipped a little as she moved her hips forward, her own cunt rubbing across Desiree’s leaking one. The omega spread her legs to move them closer, with her back against the arm of the couch, legs wrapped around Stiles’ waist.

 

Stiles panted against Desiree’s mouth and ground her hips in a slow circle that had Desiree shouting and dragging her nails down Stiles’ back. “ _Stiles_!”

 

“I’m not gonna,” she grunted, “get too caught up here, Dee, I can’t - we’re not spending the first night of your heat on the goddamn sofa.”

 

Desiree reached down between Stiles’ legs and got a flash of red eyes and a snarl for her trouble. “I need to come, Stiles, I need you to come, I need -”

 

“I know what you need, alright? Just...” Stiles grunted and lowered her to the couch, so that she could rub at her clit. “I’ll make you come again, then we can go to the bed.” She leaned forward, her free hand going to Desiree’s black hair as she kissed her. The omega was making small whimpering sounds, the evidence of her arousal slick on Stiles’ hand.

 

Desiree came with a little gasp, like she was surprised, and Stiles pressed a kiss to the hollow of her throat before she scooped Desiree up from underneath. Desiree didn’t know if she was clinging properly, all her limbs shaky and weak, but they made it up the stairs and down the hall regardless.

 

The sheets were blissfully cool on Desiree’s overheated body when Stiles laid her down, and she made a little noise at the sensation. She ached, feeling empty without Stiles inside her, and it was almost like she was losing a limb when Stiles let her go.

 

“Shh,” Stiles soothed when she made a noise, moving over her again in a heartbeat. She kissed Desiree’s forehead. “I’m just gonna grab a few things, okay?”

 

She nodded, and reached down to press on her clit, not wanting to rub it when it was still so sensitive. “Stiles, just hurry up.” It wasn’t fair that being off birth control made Desiree’s need so much worse than normal, but it had almost no greater effect on the alpha. Stiles was just as frazzled as she normally was for Desiree’s heat.

 

“Hey,” Stiles said an eternity later, finally putting her hands back on Desiree’s skin. “Put away the fangs, Dee. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

 

“Can’t,” Desiree grunted, baring her teeth. “Can’t. Control it.”

  
“Okay, okay.” Stiles rubbed the outsides of Desiree’s thighs. “That’s fine. That’s normal. We’re not used to this intensity, huh?”

 

She tried to focus on something so that her fangs and claws would go away, but nothing helped. Stiles just grabbed her arms and brought them up to the head board. “Grab on so you don’t hurt yourself. It’s fine.” Stiles kissed the side of her mouth, and then made quick work of Desiree’s bra.

 

Strapless, it uncinched from the front and Stiles gently lifted Desiree at the small of her back to pull it out from under her and toss it to the other side of the room. She ran a hand up to Desiree’s throat and cupped her neck, feeling the race of her pulse under her palm.

 

“I’m gonna fuck you,” she murmured, and the headboard creaked under Desiree’s hands. “I’m gonna fill you up and breed you. You’re mine tonight.”

 

She let out a whimper, and Stiles fit herself between Desiree’s legs, sliding their cunts together. As an alpha responding to her omega in heat, Stiles’ sex grew thick with blood, and long enough to push into Desiree’s body. It didn’t go deep, nothing like a cock or one of their toys might, but it opened her up and butted against the bundle of nerves that lay just a few  inches inside her cunt.

 

Desiree’s body arched, and as soon as her fangs disappeared, Stiles pulled her away from the headboard and turned her body until Desiree was on her side. She straddled Desiree’s right thigh and stretched the left up until she could slot herself inside more easily. Desiree squeezed around her, and Stiles gasped, fucking into her faster and deeper.

 

Stiles reached a hand down and rubbed her thumb in circles over Desiree's clitoris. “Oh, Dee you feel so good. Fuck, you’re so _wet_.” Her nub slipped out on the next grind, but when she slipped it back in, both of them groaned at the feeling.

 

Desiree came soundlessly, her entire body stretched taut as it punched through her. Somewhere far away she could hear Stiles say something, and then there were hips stuttering between her thighs and Stiles was coming inside her.

 

Slowly, she opened her eyes to find Stiles staring right back into them, cheeks flushed and eyes a deep, dark red. “Fuck,” she hissed, dragging a palm over Desiree’s belly. “God, Dee.”

 

Finally, the need let up a little, now that her body knew that it was being bred. She gave a little smile and ran a hand through Stiles’ short hair. “We should rest before the next wave hits.” They would be lucky to get an hour, but it was worth trying. After all, they hadn’t slept much the night before. Stiles had wanted to try out a new video game and they had been up well past midnight.

 

Stiles nipped at Desiree’s wrist and slowly leaned onto her elbows to kiss her. “I’m gonna get those water bottles, okay? We’re gonna need ‘em - shh hey, don’t make that sound. I’ll be literally five seconds.”

 

“Why can’t you just let me suffer in thirst,” Desiree mumbled, smooshing Stiles’ face between her hands. “I need to touch you more than I need water. Shut up, I _know_ how needy that sounds.”

 

Laughing, Stiles shoved her hips forward one more time just to make Desiree squeak before she pulled away.

 

“Five seconds,” Stiles said, holding up five fingers in case Desiree needed a visual aid.

 

The omega sighed and rolled over onto her belly. It was better than waiting perched on the edge of the sofa for Stiles to come home, anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

Desiree tried to smile at Shirley at the front desk every morning. Not just because the secretary was a kind older woman who always engaged her in conversation (usually about her cats), but also because if the secretary didn’t like you, it could really make your life hell. Luckily she was preoccupied by some girl today, so Desiree didn’t have to put on her out-of-place smile. The one she'd been told was wickedly charming when all it did was make her feel uncomfortable in her own skin.

 

Just as she was walking past, the kid turned around and beamed at her. “Heeey Dee! Howzit going?”

 

Stiles, the sheriff’s daughter. Forever oddly keen on Desiree.

 

“Stiles,” she greeted. The teenager jerked upright at her curt tone. It probably didn’t bode well for Desiree - she already knew the sheriff’s daughter was prone to latching on to peoples’ little irritations and prodding them with sticks. Metaphorically. Maybe literally. Desiree didn’t want to find out.

 

“That’s _Deputy_ Hale, Stiles,” Shirley chastised, and Stiles bobbed her head.

 

“Sure, sure, Deputy Hale. Super impressive, climbing the ranks like a champion.”

 

Desiree just barely stopped from rolling her eyes. She gave a quick sniff and then nodded in the back room. “Your father is in his office. Excuse me, I have paperwork to do.” Giving a nod to Shirley, she ducked into her own office and settled at her own desk, intent on getting it tidied up before she had to go out and patrol.

 

Unfortunately, Stiles had decided to follow her.

 

“See, my dad’s working and everything, and it’s a pro-D day at school, so I have nothing to do. Scott is visiting his dad, and I have an English paper due Monday.” Stiles stood beside her desk, one hand in her hoodie pocket, the other waving around as she talked.

 

Desiree pointed to an empty desk on the other side of the bull pen. “James’ husband had a baby Tuesday; you can do your homework at his desk.”

 

“See,” Stiles said, sounding exactly like she had before, “I happen to know that majored in English? It’s easy enough to find out online, and that essay you did on-”

 

“You looked me up,” Desiree deadpanned. “Online. Why am I not surprised.”

 

“Because you’re familiar with my somewhat bafflingly nosy but mostly charming antics?”

 

“I’m familiar with _something_ ,” Desiree grumbled, powering up her laptop. “You don’t need help with your essay, Stiles. You’re at the top of your class.”

 

Stiles laughed a bit hysterically at that. “Is that what my dad says? Well that makes sense because that’s what I tell him. But the truth of it is that Lydia Martin is the top in _all_ my classes, and she’s probably the strongest alpha in my grade, and I might have challenged her that I could get better then her on this paper? Because I idolize her and I was staring at her and she said ‘What are you staring at?’ and I said ‘The person I’m going to trounce at this essay competition.’ It wasn’t my proudest moment, but now I’m stuck and I need your help.” At the end of her rant Stiles pulled over a chair and sat down beside Desiree’s desk like she had been invited to.

 

“I think you’re forgetting that this is my place of work, Stiles -”

 

“I’ll help you file things.” Stiles wiggled her eyebrows. “I know how much you hate to file. You look like you’re going to punch the cabinet every time you go near it. I’ll take on that travesty for you. And bring you coffee. And rub your feet.”

 

“That’s disturbing.”

 

“Worth a shot though.”

 

Desiree tapped her pencil on the desk, looking at Stiles. Then she pointed it at her. “If you get better than this Martin girl, then you do my filing for two months. If you lose to her, four months. And bring me coffee while you’re filing. I won’t help you when I’m on the clock, so come back here at five with all the material you need for the paper.”

 

Stiles shot out of her chair, and hugged the deputy around the shoulders. “Thank you! You won’t regret this, I promise! You’re drawers are gonna be   _so_  freakin’ organized, even the sniffer dogs will be able to find their files.”

 

Her smile didn’t even crack when Desiree shot her a death glare. “Sorry, sorry, taking my hands off.” She really didn’t sound sorry at all.


	2. Chapter 2

 

They’d discussed it for weeks leading up to the heat, and all the heats before it - was it time? Were they ready? Was it what they wanted? And for years it just _hadn’t_ been.

 

It wasn’t that they didn’t want children. On the contrary, Desiree wanted nothing more than to raise a family, and Stiles went all soft-eyed when they passed little boys and girls in the street, curled up in strollers or clinging to their parents’ hands. But it just never seemed to be the right time.

 

This time, though. This time was different. And so they’d planned; Desiree went off her suppressants, Stiles took off all the necessary time from work. They bought the guidebooks and did their homework and when they felt... well, no less jittery but a little more prepared, they let themselves go.

 

The morning after Desiree came down from her heat, she was standing in the kitchen making eggs. The late morning sun drifted lazily through the window, and she felt... at peace. Something unfamiliar, but entirely too pleasant.

 

She heard Stiles getting out of bed and thumping down the stairs, so it was no surprise when two long arms wrapped around her waist and a chin landed on her shoulder. "Mornin'," the alpha mumbled.

 

Desiree grunted back, settling comfortably inside Stiles' arms as she flipped two eggs on the industrial-sized skillet, leaving the other two to cook sunny side up. Stiles snuffled pleasantly behind her ear. "You smell good. Sexy and sleepy."

 

"We just spent the last four days in a fucking frenzy. Are you seriously not satisfied?"

 

"Are you seriously asking me if I'm tired of having sex with you?" Stiles teased back. "Because the answer will be no until we're geriatric." She let her hand caress Desiree's flat stomach, rubbing it lightly. "So? Think it worked"

 

"I was extremely fertile for the last four days. If I'm not pregnant then there’s something wrong with your swimmers."

 

"Shut your gorgeous face," Stiles laughed, slipping a hand under Desiree's shirt. "If it didn't work this time, we'll just have to try again," she peppered the side of Desiree's neck with kisses to punctuate her point, "and again until you start to show. And then we'll do it some more just to celebrate. God, I hope you're gonna be one of those horny pregnant omegas. I hear some don't want to be touched for the duration of their pregnancy and I'd probably die if you didn't want me touching you." She paused. "But I won't if you don't want me to. Obviously. Just. Yeah."

 

Desiree huffed and rolled her eyes. "Just because I'm an omega doesn't mean I could go nine months without sex." The eggs were finished and she flipped them onto the toast laying on the plates. "Here, eat." Considering that all the food they had had in the past few days were crackers and protein shakes, they were ravenous for something substantial.

 

"Especially since that sex is with me, right?" Stiles grinned cheekily and went to the fridge to grab them both a glass of juice. Desiree snorted just to be derisive and seated herself.

 

"You're right. Maybe I can resist after all."

 

“Hey! That’s not fair. There is no way you can resist my charm.” They sat down at the table for the first time in days, tucking in immediately. “So,” Stiles asked after half the food was gone in forty seconds flat, “do you feel... impregnated?”

 

Desiree looked over at her, utterly unimpressed. “Because I would be able to feel that an egg on my body has been fertilized with a sperm. They just have pregnancy tests because omegas like peeing on sticks.”

 

“Sweet merciful fuck,” Stiles sighed, flopping back dramatically. “What, you’re not gonna tell me if you feel some kind of magical connection with what may or may not be a breached ovum?”

 

“No, Stiles,” Desiree said patiently. “I have no idea if my egg’s been fertilized. None. And I won’t for at least four weeks. Because that’s normal, and this isn’t Twilight. Now shut up and eat your breakfast before I throw you out of the house.”

 

Stiles bit into her toast with a grin, and trailed a foot up Desiree’s calf. “You know, I could call into work, say that your heat is still going and that we won’t be in tomorrow. And we could try for some more _fertilization_.”

 

“I am flattered that you tried to make that sound sexy, but we don’t get paid for being off work for my heat. If it was fertilized, we need start saving up.”

 

The alpha looked thoughtful for a minute before her face went dopey and she let out a wistful sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. We’ll need a crib, won’t we? And enough diapers to swaddle an army. And baby bottles. And teeny tiny socks. And onesies - oh my god, Dee, _onesies_. With _hoods_.”

 

“Which is obviously where our priorities should be,” Desiree deadpanned, hardly looking up from her plate. “We should focus on the practical things. I’m sure we’ll get enough gifts from friends and family to have a change of clothes for every hour of the baby’s first year.” Especially if Lydia had anything to say about it.

 

“I think Dad wanted to give us Mom’s old rocking chair once we knew we were pregnant,” she said. “He mentioned something about it a few days ago. I think he’s rummaging through all my baby stuff in the attic for us.”

 

The omega shook her head. “This is ridiculous, we don’t even know if we’re pregnant yet. This was the first heat we tried, and I've been on birth control for years. Some couples take three of four heats for female pairs to get pregnant.” For now it was just better not to get anyone’s hopes up. Desiree narrowed her eyes. “And I thought we had agreed not to tell anyone until we were sure.”

 

Stiles visibly paled. “Ah, well you see, Dad was looking at my baby pictures when I went over, and he looked so happy in them, and he looked so sad looking _at_ them because Mom was in them, and I kind of couldn't help it? You should have seen his face when I told him! He gave me a _seven minute hug_ , Dee.”

 

“Right, because John’s usually _so_ withholding of affection.”

 

But really, Desire couldn’t blame her. Had her mother still been alive, she probably wouldn’t have been able to resist telling her either. Stiles seemed to sense the mood the conversation had taken and scooted her chair closer, pressing her shoulder up against Desiree’s. “I’ve got a really good feeling about this, Dee,” she said, resting her cheek on Desiree’s head. “It’s just.... a good vibe, you know?”

 

“Yeah. I know.” Because she felt it too. This, everything, just felt _right_.

 

* * *

 

Desiree thought she might be getting a cold. She just hadn’t been feeling well all morning. Not in a sense that it would stop her from going to work, though; after all, it was a Tuesday, which meant Stiles would be in to do her filing.

 

The young alpha had received a score three percent higher on her English paper than the Martin girl, and she was almost at the end of her agreed upon two months of service. Surprisingly, her presence had ceased to be an annoyance somewhere around the fourth week, and Desiree found that she was actually starting to enjoy their time together. Even if it did mean that the sheriff had taken a much more active interest in her.

 

She could hear Stiles before she even walked into the building, chattering away to someone on her phone. Probably the McCall kid, Desiree thought, glancing down at her computer screen. They were close, Stiles and Scott McCall. Close enough for so long that his scent was just a part of Stiles’ - something Desiree wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t come to visit Stiles and her father on enough occasions for Desiree to smell Stiles all over him.

 

Desiree sat down at her desk, and not minute later Stiles came bouncing around the corner. "Hey! It's Tuesday, so it's your special day!" As she got closer, Stiles seemed to almost hesitate, but then she shook it off and took the keys for the filing cabinet. "How was your week? Ah, well you probably don't want to talk about it, I shouldn't have asked. Yeah, just forget I asked."

 

The omega couldn't see Stiles' face, but her ears had turned a bright shade pink. Why was she acting so strange? "My week was fine."

 

"Was it? That's... that's great! You, uh. You handled it pretty well by yourself then?" Before Desiree could even begin to try to decipher _that_ sort of comment, Stiles swivelled around with wide eyes and a mortified expression. "I'm not implying anything! Um, I just mean, I can't smell anyone... else, so I just assumed..."

 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Desiree hissed, trying not to make a scene.

 

Stiles had wide eyes as she stared at Desiree’s impatient expression. "You smell like... like heat. You must have just gotten off it."

 

Desiree felt the color drain from her face as she stared open-mouthed at the startled alpha across the room. "Shit," she hissed, running a hand through her hair and wincing when she realized she'd mussed it from its professional bun. "Shit. I _knew_ something was wrong."

 

"Wait, you're going into heat right _now_?" Stiles asked, louder then she had meant to. A few officers from outside the office looked in through the glass, and Desiree felt a spike of fear when a few of the unmated alphas started moving toward her office. Stiles acted quickly, shutting and locking the door.

 

She didn't smell like uncontrollable lust to Desiree, which was good, but the weirdest little part of her disagreed, like she _wanted_ Stiles to be - no, she didn't,  and if she thought she did it was just because of the heat. "Don't be afraid of me," Stiles said slowly, and Desiree scoffed. Like she ever could be. "Okay, here's the plan. We're gonna get you out of here and someplace safe, okay? I'm not gonna try anything funny, I promise."

 

"You might surprise yourself," Desiree grumbled, feeling... warm. Too warm. Damn.

 

There was a pounding on the door from outside, and the face of another deputy peered in through the glass. "Desiree? You okay in there? You wanna open the door?"

 

"Fuck off, Adams!" she growled, groaning as another hot pulse thrummed through her. The omega put her head on the desk, nice and cool on her cheek.

 

Stiles was pacing in front of the door, and then she pulled out her cell phone. "I'll call my dad. He won't be affected by you because he’s already had the mating bond."

 

"Why aren't you affected by me?"

 

Stiles waved her off and put the phone to her ear. Desiree concentrated on the sound of the ring to get her focus at least somewhat on anything that wasn't the restless, too-hot feeling burning her body up. "Dad? Hey. We have a situation here and - yeah, we really need you down here. Now, if not sooner."

 

She heard the sheriff say he would be right down and Stiles hung up the phone. Desiree tried to ignore the feeling of her heat coming on, but it was so hard now that it was really starting. Cursing herself for not noticing sooner, for not piecing it together and just staying home, Desiree rolled her head to cool the other cheek against the desktop.

 

Stiles seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "Don't omegas usually plan for this?"

 

"It's early. I wasn't supposed to go into heat for another _month_."

 

"Okay, okay, it’s cool," Stiles said, and Desiree felt a spike of irritation at the fact that Stiles was trying to placate her. Like she had no control over her emotions or her body. Stiles' stepped closer, almost unconsciously, as if reacting to Desiree's distress. "Dad'll be here in ten minutes, tops. You might get to see him in his jammies. I think those boneheads out there would be way too far gone to even notice, huh?"

 

There was more banging on the door, and why did so many alphas have to join law enforcement? "Stiles, you're an alpha. My smell is only going to get stronger. Maybe you should-"

 

"I'm not leaving you. Look, I'm not going to jump you or anything, alright? I would like to think I have a little more control then those guys."

 

" _Why_ do you have so much control?" she asked, gritting her teeth. "The first whiff of my pheromones made them lose their heads and there's a closed door separating them and me. How are you... not trying to..."

 

"Hey, I don't see _you_ leaping at _me_ begging to be bred, so why'm I getting the third degree for not succumbing to baser urges?"

 

Desiree glared at her, but then closed her eyes and put her head back on the desk. "I'm not in full heat yet. I might still... Beg you." After all, that was what heat was for, wasn't it? To make it almost impossible for an omega to not be bred. And this was probably one of the worst situations for it.

 

"Hey. Hey, c'mon, Dee, it's gonna be okay." Stiles' voice was so soothing, calm and soft, and Desiree just wanted to curl around the sound. "I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? I won't even touch you."

 

Desiree made a tiny, embarrassing noise, and felt nothing but deep mortification.

 

Stiles stepped closer, almost to the edge of the desk. “Look, what can I do? To make it better.”

 

“Nothing. Please just...” The smell of the alpha near her was driving her crazy. Then her eyes went wide and stared at her. “It’s you! Heats can come faster if... if an unbounded alpha has forged some sort of… of claim. By asserting their presence and transferring scent through touch, and – and forming a connection.” And Stiles had been around more than most alphas that she knew.

 

“So... shit. It’s my fault.” Stiles bit her thumbnail and glared out the glass window at the alpha officers crowding Desiree’s door. “I’m really sorry, okay? I didn’t know it would cause you so much trouble to be around. After we get you out of here, I won’t - I won’t do it anymore, okay? I’ll stay out of your way.”

 

Desiree shook her head, but then groaned. “No, I... We shouldn’t decide something like that when we’re both... affected.”

 

Stiles opened her mouth to say something back, but there was a commotion outside. “What the hell is going on here? Everyone, get back to work! Stiles? Stiles are you in there?”

 

“Dad,” Stiles called, moving quickly to the door. Desiree peered up, a pit in her stomach clenching in a combination of anticipation and dread when Stiles put her hand on the lock. “I’m not gonna unlock the door until you get them out of here, Dad. It’s not safe.”

 

“They’re not going to attack her, Stiles,” came the sheriff’s voice, but Stiles shook her head.

 

“I’d probably try to fight them, Dad. I... may have accidentally put a little bit of a scent claim on Dee.”

 

There was a pause, and then they both heard the sheriff forcing his officers to disperse. There were a few protests, and one alpha even tried to challenge him for a brief and ultimately aborted moment, but for the most part the threat of suspension got everyone out of the way. “Alright, Stiles, it’s only me now,” he said as if they could not see him standing alone through the glass. “You can open the door. How is Hale?”

 

“Dee?” Stiles looked over her shoulder as she unlocked the door, and Desiree felt the muscles in her jaw tick with the effort not to - to do _something_.

 

“I’m fine,” she grunted, fixing her eyes on the sheriff when he squeezed into the room. “Sheriff.”

 

“You look like hell, deputy.”

 

She swallowed and nodded, completely embarrassed that her boss was seeing her like this. “I... just need to go home.” So that she could be alone to... take care of herself.

 

The sheriff glanced outside. “I’ll get you home. Stiles, are you coming? You said you had... scent claimed her? Is there something you should both be telling me?”

 

“No! Dad, no, it was completely unintentional.”

 

Desiree made to stand up, but the first step faltered, and the second nearly had her falling to the floor. Stiles was there, though, with an arm to catch her struggling body, and it was like honey had replaced all the blood in Desiree’s veins. She was warm and her limbs were heavy, but Stiles smelled so good and strong and safe.

 

It felt almost a waste, Desiree thought, to be taken home to be all alone when being with Stiles felt a thousand times better. “I-I don’t think I can go home.” She swallowed, whispering so that Stiles would know it was for her. “I might just l-leave and... come find you.”

 

“What? Seriously?” Stiles’ grip tightened, but she didn’t try anything - not anything at all. “Why? It - seriously Dee, if I’ve scent-marked you at all, it was totally unintentional and accidental. It can’t be that strong.”

 

“You don’t understand,” Desiree pleaded, and some faraway corner of her brain was ashamed to sound so needy. If she were honest with herself, though, there could be worse people to be so vulnerable with. “My - my body, my biology, it takes that as a, a declaration. Unfinished business. It wants you.”

 

“But it’s not what _you_ want.” Stiles’ smile was nearly as weak as Desiree’s legs and she felt a lump of lead drop into her belly at the sight of Stiles’ thinly veiled unhappiness.

 

“We’ll take you home,” the sheriff said, leading them down the hall and snapping at the alphas that made to follow them.

 

“My mom’s brother was an omega,” Stiles said, “and before he was mated, he used the heat room at our house since he didn’t have one himself. You can stay there. It’s safe.”

 

Her eyes went wide. Going into heat at Stiles’ house would mean having to smell the unbonded alpha who’d claimed her everywhere. It would be agony. But what other option did she have? At least a heat room would have a lock from the outside, even if the next four days would be hell.

 

“I mean,” Stiles went on, guiding Desiree through the front door of the station, “if that’s what you want. Whatever you think is best, Dee. It’s up to you.”

 

“Don’t leave things up to me,” she breathed, “because I only want one thing right now, and my decision-making skills will just evaporate with time.”

 

Stiles stood still for a second before the sheriff pulled her along with steady hands. “I'm gonna make the call here, and you’ll be safest in our heat room. If you haven’t had time to prepare, you won’t be able to stay hydrated and well fed. It isn’t safe.” He glared off a few alphas as they made it to his squad car.

 

Gently, Stiles tried to ease Desiree into the back of the car, but when she made to let go, Desiree grabbed her by the arm. “Please,” she croaked, and though Stiles hesitated at first, she allowed herself to be pulled into the back of the cruiser beside Desiree. “Sorry,” the omega murmured, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m going to be mortified about this in a week. I just need contact. It burns when I’m not. It - I just need -”

 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Stiles soothed, tentatively resting her hand at the back of Desiree’s neck. She thought she might melt from the gentle pressure, leaning into Stiles’ touch.

 

The sheriff drove quickly, probably breaking a few speeding laws on the way. None of them said anything. Desiree was beginning to feel an ache between her legs, and her nipples were extremely sensitive. But the thing she couldn’t stop focusing on was Stiles’ hand on her neck. She couldn’t stop herself from pushing closer.

 

When Stiles’ fingers twitched like she might move them away, Desiree blurted, “Don’t!” and she froze. “I need you to touch me, please. Please touch me.”

 

“Y-yeah, uh, I’ll just...” She reached over with her free hand and rested it over one of Desiree’s balled fists. Slowly, she eased Desiree’s white-knuckled fingers out and stroked them with her thumb.

 

Desiree let out a shuddering breath, because it felt so unfamiliar and achingly good to have an alpha try and soothe her. How much Stiles could do for her if they mated. Stiles would take care of her, she was a good alpha.

 

“Please. Stiles, please.”

 

“I’m touching you, I’ve got you.”

 

“No, Stiles, please. I need you. I need you to help me. I need you to f-”

 

“I know I’m not hearing my _deputy_ proposition a _minor_ right now.”

 

She groaned and leaned into Stiles. This was wrong, her boss was in the front seat, but she couldn’t stop herself.

 

Stiles spoke up. “Dad, it’s not her fault. Besides, I’m irresistible.” She grinned, but couldn’t take her eyes off of Desiree. A drop of sweat was running down her throat.

 

“I trust you,” Desiree sighed, pressing against Stiles. It wasn’t the smartest idea, but every part of her ached for more contact with Stiles.

 

“Nah, you don’t trust me, you’re just a little fuzzy right now because I accidentally screwed up your biology.”

 

The car was slowing down, and Desiree knew in the back of her mind that they had arrived at the Stilinski house, but it didn’t matter to her. “No, no this isn’t the heat, Stiles. I want you, I need you, _please_.”

  
For the briefest moment, Stiles’ eyes flashed from a warm, doe brown to a deep, powerful alpha red and a shudder ran through Desiree’s body. She pressed her face to Stiles’ neck and panted. “Please, please, I need you, just you. I’m so glad it’s you.”

 

“Alright, let’s get you out of the car before you do something you’ll regret,” came the sheriff’s voice from behind her, and Desiree found herself being pulled away out the other door of the car.

 

“No wait, Dad! She won’t regret it, she said so!” Stiles jumped out of the car and went after them. “We both want this, you can tell how much we want this!”

 

“Obviously, since I am the only sane one here, I make the rules. Stiles, go to your room and wait there until I tell you it’s safe.”

 

Desiree _was_ safe, protected in the sheriff’s arms, but in that moment she didn’t want the security. She just wanted Stiles.  “Stiles,” she croaked, and the sheriff tensed when Stiles let out a low, rumbling growl.

 

“Deputy Hale, we are going to have a serious problem if you pit me against my daughter.”

 

There was really no other word for the sound Desiree made. She whimpered. Stiles lurched forward, trying to grab her. "It's alright, Dee, I won't let anything happen to you!"

 

The sheriff let out a low, guttural growl and Stiles jolted back. She looked surprised for a moment before she slowly grew visibly cowed. The red in her eyes flickered back to brown. "Sorry. Sorry, it won't happen again."

 

"No," Desiree pleaded, falling back against the sheriff as he resumed dragging her up the stairs. "Please. Please let me."

 

"You'll thank me in a week," the sheriff grumbled and then used his alpha voice, deep and resonating. "Stop fighting me. I know what's best for you."

 

Even in the state she was in, Desiree recognized the alpha in him, and couldn't help herself as she bared her throat and agreed with everything he said.

 

When they were finally inside the house, Stiles shut and locked the front doors. "I'll go make sure the room's suitable," she said and bolted off down the hall. Desiree panted and cool calloused hand pressed gently against her forehead.

 

"You'll be alright, deputy."

 

Desiree could smell Stiles everywhere in the house, though, and it was beginning to be a challenge to keep herself upright, even with the help of her boss. Soon the young alpha came back in, panting and flushed with too-bright eyes. “Alright, it’s ready.”

                                  

The room was dark and cool, blackout curtains drawn closed to keep the sun from her sensitive eyes. The bed in the corner of the room was low to the floor and covered in thin, silken sheets that soothed her sensitive skin when the sheriff settled her down.

 

“I’ll get you some water,” Stiles muttered from the doorway, disappearing again.

 

It didn’t feel good, watching her alpha leave the room like that, and Desiree closed her eyes, leaning back against the pillow. “I-I’m sorry about this, Sheriff. Should have... recognized the signs.”

 

“These things happen,” he said, squeezing the back of her neck. It wasn’t anything like when Stiles had done it, but it did calm her, giving her a moment of lucidity.

 

“I didn’t know about the - the scent marking. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let - let it happen.”

 

Just then Stiles came back with a bottle of cool water and handed it over. Desiree took it gratefully, and couldn't help herself brushing up against Stiles' fingers as she grabbed it.

 

"We'll leave you to it then. If you need something, just call, one of us will be here at all times." The sheriff pushed Stiles out the door and closed it.

 

Desiree buried her face against the pillow Stiles must have just been touching, preparing for her. She inhaled her scent, twisting the sheets around herself and whining helplessly into the pillow. It was going to be a long, _long_ heat.


	3. Chapter 3

Desiree shot out of bed, stumbling to the bathroom on sleep-weak legs. She only just made it to the toilet, falling to her knees and doubling over to retch inside. Stiles came in after her, twice as awake as Desiree with concern painted on her face. She knelt on the floor beside her, holding back dark hair as the omega convulsed.

 

For the fifth day in a row she groaned into the toilet bowl, and Stiles pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "Don't kiss me after I just puked," she griped, much to Stiles' amusement.

 

“It’s not like I kissed your mouth. Here.” She stood and filled a glass with tap water, handing it over for Desiree to swish around in her mouth before spitting it into the toilet. She crouched down by Desiree’s side and brushed back the sweat-damp strands of hair plastered to her temple. “Do you want me to get you some crackers?”

                                                                                                

“You could get me a new body that doesn’t have morning sickness.”

 

“But I like _this_ body,” Stiles said, mouth pressed to Desiree’s shoulder. “It’s a great body. Beautiful and perfect, especially when you’re super cranky and bent over the porcelain goddess.”

 

“I hate you,” she groaned, closing her eyes and falling back against Stiles. She felt like she’d run ten miles, she had to pee every ten seconds, her breasts felt swollen and achy, and she just wanted to sleep.

 

Stiles wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close. Desiree grunted, but melted into her all the same. “Go away. I’m mad at you. You did this to me.”

 

The alpha chuckled and kissed the crown of her head. “If you remember, we both wanted this. And it’s just been six weeks. The doctor said the second trimester would be easier, didn’t he?”

 

“We’re only halfway to the second trimester,” she mumbled. Stiles reached under her shirt and cupped a bare breast, gently massaging it until Desiree was a grunting quietly and squirming under her hand. She moved on to the other, kissing her behind the ear.

 

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

 

Desiree sniffed after a moment and swatted her hand away. “That’s too much, they hurt! Just because they’re extra sensitive doesn’t mean you should go and play with them all the time,” she grumbled and sipped some more water.

 

“That’s not what you said last night.”

 

“We didn’t even fuck last night, you just cuddled me while I cried.”

 

“Yeah. You were saying things more along the lines of, _Rub my back, stop talking to the fetus, when will this end, why does this have to happen to me, just kidding Stiles, you’re the best and I love you so much_.”

 

“I did not say that.” Well. Most of it, anyway. If this was what pregnancy did to her in the first six weeks, she wasn’t sure she wanted to get to the second trimester. “Can you get me some tums?” They were about the only thing that she could take now with a baby. “Is it time to get to work yet? Not sure I could fall asleep again.”

 

Stiles checked the bathroom clock as she searched the cupboard for tums. “It’s a bit early, but we might as well get ready. Or you could call in sick.”

 

“What, every day for the rest of the pregnancy? Don’t tempt me.”

 

“D’you think I could tempt you... some other way?”

 

“I just vomited in front of you literally ten minutes ago. Does that do it for you now?”

 

“Nah, but your snarky little mouth does. Brush your teeth and I’ll get you some Tums. And then we can either get dressed... or undressed.”

 

“If you wiggle your eyebrows, I swear to god I will end your life.”

 

Stiles put her hands up innocently, and went to go look for the bottle of brightly colored tablets. Desiree stood up and went over to the sink, frowning at her reflection. The glow of pregnancy was utter bullshit. Her eyes were puffy, her face was red, and she could still taste puke in her mouth. She grabbed the tooth brush and spent at least five minutes brushing every part of her mouth she could reach without gagging.

 

When Stiles came back, she was twenty seconds into her minute-long gargle and Stiles stood by patiently making faces until Desiree finally spit the sharp blue liquid out into the sink and rinsed it down the drain.

 

“Here,” Stiles said, dropping a couple tablets into Desiree’s palm and kissing her temple. “I’m sorry you feel gross, babe. I think you look smokin’ hot though.”

 

“Just because you give me compliments doesn’t mean you’re getting laid.” She turned to look at Stiles, finally feeling mostly normal again. A hand went instinctively to her stomach, even though there wasn’t a bump anywhere in sight. “We both have work. If I get through the day without puking again, maybe we can have sex tonight.”

 

Stiles’ face cracked into a wide grin and she leaned forward, kissing Desiree’s nose. “I still get emotional gratification when we cuddle. That’s practically as good.”

 

“You’re an asshole, and I want you to know that.”

 

“I’m _your_ asshole,” Stiles corrected, and Desiree gagged when she pulled her close.

 

“If you try a corny line like that on me again, your access to my vagina is strictly revoked.”

 

“That’s fine, I have a key to the back door. Get it? The back door? I mean your butt.” Stiles’ grin was about as wide as it could get, and Desiree really couldn’t stop the eye roll.

 

“Your comedic genius knows no bounds,” she deadpanned, walking down to the kitchen. It didn’t matter how queasy her stomach was, she needed coffee.

 

Stiles followed her in a few minutes later. She’d changed into a dark pair of jeans and one of Desiree’s thin grey tank tops. “Hey, you gonna make me a cup of that?” she asked, eying Desiree’s mug hotly.

 

“Shouldn’t I be allowed to never serve you again for the next seven and a half months? I am carrying your child, after all.”

 

Stiles sidled up behind her and reached for a mug. “Don’t think of it as serving, think of it as providing a necessary and loving service for your loved one. For your baby-mama. Besides, you shouldn’t have a whole pot of coffee, you’ll have our jellybean addicted to caffeine before she even has taste buds.”

 

“She’ll get there eventually. Might as well start early.”

 

“I think I heard caffeine’s kinda bad for the baby anyway. Whoa, hey, don’t give me the death stare - I’m not gonna tell you to stop drinking coffee, Dee. I’m just putting it out there.”

 

“You want me to add caffeine withdrawal to the list of my many aches and pains? Is that it?”

 

She quickly shook her head. “What do those doctors know anyway? Always coming out with new studies. One day caffeine is bad, the next day it’s good!” Stiles took her cup of coffee and stirred in some milk. “I’m sure it’ll be fine if you just stay away from the big ones, like drinking and smoking. And, like, getting in an accident and stuff.” She narrowed her eyes. “I will be seriously upset if you _ever_ get in an accident, pregnant or not. Just don’t do it, okay?”

 

“Right, because of the two of us, _I’m_ the one most likely to do something stupid that results in an injury.”

 

“I’m a hypocrite because I care.”

 

“Now I know how your father feels.” Desiree muttered under her breath, and quickly gulped down the rest of her hot coffee. “I’m going for a shower. Too bad you’re already dressed, you could have joined me.”

 

She smirked as she sauntered up stairs, listening for the tell-tale sounds of a cup clattering to the table and footsteps thundering up the stairs behind her.

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn’t so much a graduation party as it was a bunch of socially awkward nineteen-year-olds and Lydia Martin eating unhealthy things and chatting with each other in the Stilinski’s backyard. To be honest, Desiree felt a little silly and out of place, even though she’d been invited (bordering on coerced) into coming. She was twenty-four; too old to be one of the kids, but too young to really understand Melissa and John’s exasperated but fond parental nostalgia. Desiree had always been the odd one out in social situations, which suited her just fine and even made her seem more professional at her job, but in real life it was just... awkward.

 

One of the beta boys, Danny, tried talking to her for a bit, and Desiree worried that he might have been trying to hit on her until he pointed out his boyfriend in the crowd. He seemed like a nice boy, but was obviously just taking pity on her because she hadn’t actually tried to mingle since Stiles had introduced her at the beginning of the party.

 

Pitied by a teenager. Desiree had possibly reached a new low. She wasn’t self-loathing enough to believe that Stiles’ invitation was extended out of pity as well, but she was awfully darn close.

 

Every other minute she wondered to herself how early it would be the most polite to take her leave, and for lack of anything better to do she brought any dirty dishes into the house, figuring it served both the purposes of being helpful and keeping busy, and remaining at the party so as not to be rude while simultaneously keeping out of sight.

 

Just a few minutes later, however, Stiles stumbled into the kitchen, her long limbs still coltish and wild. “Oh good! I thought you had left. Hey, sorry about abandoning you out there, Scott and Allison have hit a bit of a rough patch and he needed some talking down.” She leaned against the counter, looking at Desiree and the full, sudsy sink. “You don’t have to do the dishes, this is a party!”

 

Desiree looked at her for a minute before looking back down at her soapy hands under the running water. “It’s fine. It’ll be hell for you guys to do these later when you’re tired.”

“Yeah, but c’mon! There’s music and Dad’s gonna light the tiki torches soon.”

 

“It’s a graduation party, and I graduated six years ago. You should go have fun with your friends, these won’t take long.” And then maybe it would be late enough in the day for her to slip away unnoticed.

 

Stiles watched her for another minute before she disappeared out the back door. Desiree sighed, and hated herself a little for feeling a twinge of disappointment under her relief.

 

She was woman enough to admit to herself that she was attracted to Stiles. It was just too embarrassing and borderline illegal to tell anyone else, was all. At first she’d assumed that heat three years ago to be at fault; some lingering yearning, or even a side-effect of the unintentional scent-sharing. The first year it had been startling; the second year, annoying. Now, though, Desiree had resigned herself to the feeling, as well as the hopelessness of it.

 

Stiles was vibrant with life and bursting at the seams with energy that she had to share with everyone around her. It was why her circle of friends was so vast and varied. She endeared everyone to her, and Desiree loved her for it. But someone else would love her more someday - someone Stiles loved just as fiercely in return. Someone who could make her laugh and engage her and compliment her in every way. It was what she deserved.

 

Just as she was getting ready to start the dishes in the rack, the door opened again. She looked back, and saw Stiles with a new pile of dirty plates. “There were more, so I figured I would help,” she explained as she dropped them in the sink. “Unless you wanna go back outside - I mean, I’m not trying to force you to do dishes or anything.”

 

Desiree couldn’t help the ghost of a smile that crept on her face. “No, it’s fine. You want to dry?”

 

“More than anything in the world,” Stiles laughed, nudging Desiree with her shoulder when she made more space. “Man, these are so clean. Dad and I usually just give ‘em a quick wipe down. You’d think that since you live alone you’d have no fucks to give, but I’m impressed.”

 

“You smooth sweet-talker,” Desiree deadpanned, and Stiles snorted.

 

The alpha quickly dried and put away the dishes while Desiree cleaned them. “I’m thinking about getting a tattoo. What do you think? Like a huge eagle on my back or something.”

 

“That would take a long time. Might want to start with something small for your first one.”

 

“Yeah?” The plates clanked and clattered when she stacked them up. “You have any?”

 

“Just one. It was enough for me.”

 

“It was meaningful, huh?”

 

Desiree rinsed out a bowl with slow circles of motion. “Yeah.”

 

Stiles flipped her towel to the dry end and took the bowl from her hands. “I was thinking of getting one for my mom, you know? Just a reminder of her on my skin for the rest of my life.”

 

Desiree nodded, putting a cup on the rack. "That would be nice. So, not an eagle?"

 

"I don't know, she did like eagles." Stiles grinned, her face brightening up even as she spoke of her mom. “I've never seen yours, which means it's in a secret place. Is it on... your butt? Or… did you get a tramp stamp?"

 

She flicked a slew of frothy bubbles at her face and Stiles tried to dodge it unsuccessfully, cackling. "So is that a yes?"

 

"It's on my back. Between my shoulder blades."

 

"Whoa, did it hurt?"

 

"Yes, it hurt." Desiree put the last glass in the tray and drained the water. Stiles would probably want to go back out with her friends when she was finished drying. Maybe even before.

 

Feeling almost awkward again, Desiree rinsed off her pruney hands and dried them on her jeans. "Congratulations, Stiles."

 

"For what? Making it out of high school alive?"

 

"Yeah. And your SAT scores. That's something to be incredibly proud of."

 

Stiles turned an interesting shade of pink and shrugged bashfully. "I mean, my nonexistent social life suffered for it, but I graduated top of my class so that's something to cling to when I'm alone at fifty with a house full of cats."

 

"And I'm sure Mr Twinkles and all his siblings will be very proud of you."

 

"Wow, was that a joke? That was a joke, wasn't it! Look at you, making jokes like a normal person!"

 

Desiree rolled her eyes and folded both arms over her chest. "You can tell how well you've matured over the years."

 

"Was that - was that an insult? I've been insulted!" Stiles flung her arms out. "I'm totally mature! Just look at me! I've got the boobs to show for it and everything!"

 

And that definitely did not make Desiree glance quickly down to her breasts. Yes, yes she definitely had them. "Just the fact that you said that. I can't believe you're actually eighteen."

 

"Legal and everything."

 

Desiree felt her heart jump up into her throat and for the longest moment, she was so unerringly certain that Stiles _knew_. She knew that Desiree had harboured silly little ridiculous feelings for her, a girl six years her junior. She was trying to make light of Desiree's creepy little crush.

 

Stiles must have noticed something was wrong, though. “I mean, well I wasn’t trying to refer to you know, the incident, just that hey, now I don’t have to feel like a liar when I press that I Am Over 18 button on the internet! So it’s good that I don’t have to lie anymore! Not that I always go on those sites or anything, you know, just for... research?”

 

“I’m sure that’s exactly what you meant,” Desiree said faintly, scrubbing a damp hand through her hair. “Listen, Stiles, I really should go.”

 

“What? No way-”

 

“Your friends are gonna come looking for you any minute because you’re in the kitchen doing the dishes at your graduation party. You should be out there having fun with them.”

 

“No, I hardly see you anymore! You’re always so busy working at the station, and you never let me help out. Stay? Please? They probably don’t even notice I’m gone, I’m seriously not that popular.” Stiles stepped back when she must have realized that she was slightly crowding Desiree against the counter.

 

The omega sighed and shook her head. “The deal had been for you to do my filing for two months. You did it for almost a year. I felt like I was taking advantage of you.” But she didn’t move to leave the room.

 

“Take advantage of me? Oh my god, Dee, if anything, I was taking advantage of _you_. I had a crush the size of Texas on you for ages, and I practically forced you into hanging out with me for a _year_ with the _dumbest_ excuse in the world.”

 

Desiree stared at her helplessly before lowering her eyes to look anywhere else. She’d been Stiles’ post-Lydia crush. Someone else unattainable to latch onto until she grew up. That was fine. Desiree didn’t expect anything more of her.

 

“Well, thank you for hiding it from your father. I’m sure that if he knew his daughter used to have a crush on me he could have made my life hell.”

 

Stiles actually laughed at that, which wasn’t really the reaction Desiree had expected. “I can’t hide anything from my dad for long. He figured it out after the heat thing. He told me... that I had to wait ‘til I was finished high school.” Stiles’ stepped forward, once again crowding her close to the counter, but she didn’t seem to care this time. Desiree’s eyes shot up. “Well, my last test was last week.”

 

“Stiles,” Desiree breathed, blood roaring in her ears. Stiles licked her lips nervously and leaned down, pressing her mouth against Desiree’s for the briefest moment. She nudged Desiree’s nose with her own before moving back just enough for Desiree to get a good look at her sheepish expression. “I’ve wanted to, uh... to do that for like, a million years. So. I thought maybe now that I’m a cool adult I could just - take that risk and... yeah.”

 

Desiree didn’t hesitate. She jumped forward, pressing their lips together even harder. Stiles was a bit taller than her now, a good inch or two, but it didn’t matter as the alpha bent down and put a hand on her waist. Her soft mouth opened to Desiree and it felt so good, so _right_ , that Desiree didn’t want to pull away. But she had to when someone cleared their throat at the doorway.

 

“I totally called it,” Lydia said, cocking her hip to the side and looking Desiree up and down.

 

“Lydia, you’re a menace-”

 

“Shut up, Stiles,” she said primly, and turned to address Desiree instead. “Stiles hasn’t stopped talking about you for the last three years. If you were keeping her around, I had a good feeling you at least felt something for her, too. And when you did nothing but stare at her like a lost puppy the whole party, I knew for sure.”

 

“For fuck’s sake,” Desiree said miserably, and Stiles patted her head.

 

“Yeah, that’s the effect Lydia has on most people. You learn to suffer through it.”

 

The strawberry blond grinned and tilted her head. “I don’t know what you mean, Stiles. I’m delightful.” With those last words and a hair flip, she left the kitchen, and Stiles turned back to Desiree.

 

“Well, I hope you didn’t want to keep this secret. Because everyone at the party will know in ten minutes or less.”

 

Desiree could distantly hear Lydia telling someone that she had found Stiles making out with a hot deputy. “Or less. Did _you_ want to keep it secret?”

 

“Are you kidding?” Stiles smiled like nothing could make her happier than standing there with her arms around Desiree, and it was beautiful. “I think pretty much all of Beacon Hills knew about my pining except you. This’ll be old news in a week. Hey, you think we could kiss again? Because that was really awesome.”

 

“Oh, you’ve definitely matured,” Desiree said, and cut Stiles’ cackling off with a kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles fell out of her car so quickly that she forgot to lock up and grab her things, and had to go back. But with that done, she raced to the door, her mind and limbs in a panic. This had been one of Desiree’s days off work and she had still been asleep when Stiles left that morning. Then, only about twenty minutes earlier, her phone had buzzed with a text. _Get home now_ was all that it had read, which had Stiles buzzing with anxiety. Had she fallen? Was something wrong? Did she need strawberries or some other craving?

 

She leapt the length of the porch steps in a couple bounds and burst through the front door. “Desiree! What’s wrong? Where - oh.”

                                             

Desiree twitched and hummed in her sleep, pulling in on herself on the sofa. Stiles bit her lip, looking the curled form of her mate over. Desiree was wearing next to nothing, a little black lace number following the curve of her hips and dipping to cup her generous breasts. A thin black strap fell over her shoulder, accompanied by a dark wave of hair.

 

Stiles crept over to her and crouched down on the floor beside her, kissing Desiree’s forehead.

 

When she stirred, blinking blearily at Stiles, the alpha couldn’t help but kiss her again. “Hey, sleepy head.”

 

The dark haired beauty gazed sleepy at her. "Wanted to greet you at the door in lingerie. You took too long so I had a nap." She stretched out an arm, exposing the length of her body, including the almost imperceptible bump of her belly.

 

"Why did you need me? Did something go wrong?"

 

"Mm, nothing’s wrong, just needed you. I'm so horny right now."

 

Stiles choked on an inhale and blinked owlishly at her mate. "You're serious! Oh, wow, sorry I just wasn't expecting... wow."

 

"You were expecting something drastic?"

 

"Yeah, danger or something, I dunno."

 

"And you ran home to protect me from this unknown danger, even though we have guns hidden away at the most strategic points in the house."

 

"I thought you might have fallen and gotten hurt!"

 

Desiree smiled and reached out, dragging Stiles in by the back of her neck to kiss her. Stiles had to scramble delicately on top of her to keep from squishing her and Desiree snorted with laughter into the kiss, stretching her legs out on either side of Stiles. "I'm not hurt," she sighed, arching her neck when Stiles bent down to suck a mark into her throat.

 

"Nah," Stiles laughed, "you were curled up like a kitten in this sexy little thing."

 

"Erica gave it to me. Said it would fit my breasts, since nothing else does anymore." Desiree worked on the buttons on Stiles' shirt, wanting her out of it as soon as possible.

 

Stiles kissed down her neck, pausing at the collar bone to give a nip. "I'll have to send her a thank you card. Should we move this to the bed?" After all, it was a bit difficult to fit on the couch while having sex, since she was terrified of putting pressure on Desiree's stomach.

 

Desiree wound her arms around Stiles' neck, still sluggish from sleep, and Stiles tilted them both back until Desiree locked her legs around Stiles' waist. She hoisted them both up, gripping Desiree's thighs and chuckling into her long dark hair when Desiree peppered her jaw with kisses. "You should call me home for sexmergencies more often."

 

“I’m sure your boss won’t mind.” Desiree was quickly starting to wake up, and so was her sexual appetite. She nibbled a bit on Stiles’ neck, watching the mark fade away when she was done. And then they were in the bedroom, and she was being deposited on the bed.

 

Stiles moved over her like a predator, sucking at her bottom lip and spanning a wide hand over her belly. “Don’t fall asleep on me now, ‘kay?” she said with a cheeky grin, and Desiree nipped at her chin in retaliation.

 

“No promises.”

 

Nudging Desiree’s nose with her own, Stiles situated her knee between Desiree’s thighs. “What do you want, gorgeous?”

 

“Anything.” Desiree spread her thighs wide to give Stiles room. One of her hands went to her belly, the other went up and curled around the alpha’s neck. “Anything you want to do to me, just do it.”

 

“I see you’re in a demanding mood today.” When _wasn’t_ she in a demanding mood? Not that Stiles minded. There was nothing she loved more than pleasing her omega. “Why don’t I start... here?” She cupped one of Desiree’s breasts under the flimsy lingerie, grinning when Desiree’s breath hitched. “Yeah, I want to start here. They’ve swollen again, I think.” A little furrow creased her brow. “Are they bothering you again?”

 

She groaned when Stiles pinched the nipple. It wasn’t hard, but she was so sensitive that it still hurt a bit. “Not... as bad. Guess I have to get used to it anyway.” They had already grown nearly two cup sizes since she had become pregnant, and she was practically falling out of most of her bras.

 

Stiles grunted, nuzzling her neck. She gentled her touch, softly kneading the tender breasts. “What about your calves, babe? Your ankles?”

 

“I don’t want a massage,” Desiree whimpered. “I wanted to have sex. This isn’t sex.”

 

“We could do both?” Stiles lifted an eyebrow with her offer.

 

Desiree pushed herself up so that she was sitting with her face inches from Stiles’. “How about you make me feel better after you’ve fucked me hard enough to make me sore.”

                                                                                                                            

With a little grin, Stiles kissed and kissed at her mouth. “You,” she said with a little smooch, “seem to forget how strong my protective instincts are right now. All I want to do is make you safe and comfortable.”

 

“Nothing could make me more comfortable than to be fucked into a state of bliss.”

 

Her alpha laughed, butting her nose against Desiree’s cheek. “Alright, then let’s get you dirty so after I can give you a nice hot bath.” Stiles kissed down her chest, woefully reminding herself not to linger at her breasts since they were so tender. She lifted the silky hem of the lingerie out of her way, and was glad to find out that Desiree wasn’t wearing any panties underneath when she went down to rub a finger against the heat of her.

 

Desiree sighed, stretching her arms over her head and spreading her thighs farther apart. “I’ve wanted this all day,” she hummed. “Touched myself already, but I just wanted your hands on me.”

 

The thought of Desiree touching herself made Stiles choke, and she really wished she had been here to see it. It wasn’t something she had to lament on for long, because Desiree batted her hand away to stuff two, three fingers in herself, rubbing at her clit with her thumb. “Fuck, you’re already so wet.”

 

“Thought of you,” she sighed, eyelashes fluttering. “Thought of you touching me. I wanted you to fuck me all morning.”

 

“Yeah?” Stiles watched Desiree’s fingers fucking in and out with great interest. “You should’ve told me when we woke up.”

 

“You were rushing around getting ready for work,” Desiree huffed. “I thought I could just take care of myself.”

 

Stiles snorted. “How did that work out for you?”

 

“Considering that you’re here and I can smell your arousal, pretty well.” With her free hand, she lifted up the black silk, up to her breasts, so that her whole torso was revealed.

 

“Fuck, Dee,” Stiles breathed, eyes raking over her like she’d never seen her before. She smoothed a hand over Desiree’s belly and pressed her mouth just below her belly button. “You’re seriously so freaking gorgeous.”

 

“Shut up and fuck me,” Desiree whined, heat rising in her cheeks.

 

“All in good time, my pretty.” She moved Desiree’s hand out of the way, replacing it with her own. Stiles rubbed at her clit, circling slowly in the way she knew made the omega go crazy. “I want to hear you. Stop clenching your teeth.”

 

“I’m not here to moan just for your - ahhn!”

 

Stiles snickered, rubbing quick circles just above Desiree’s clit until her back was arching and the noises coming from her mouth were high and quick. Desiree reached up to the headboard, holding it with a crushing grip. “Fuck Stiles, y-ah!- you are such a fucking -ngh- tease!”

 

“My poor baby,” Stiles clucked, lowering her head to flick her tongue out between her fingers at Desiree’s clitoris. The omega whimpered, toes curling in the bedsheets. “You want this? Want me to eat you out until you come?”

 

“Yes, please Stiles, oh fuck please!” Desiree let out a whine when Stiles put her mouth on her and sucked, the feeling like nothing she could have done by herself, no matter what toys she used.

 

When Desiree came, the noise she made was broken like a sob. Stiles mouthed at her until she was keening quietly from oversensitivity and Stiles pulled away, nuzzling the underside of her belly. “How’s that?”

 

“You didn’t come at all.” Desiree said, her voice tired as she reached a hand down, running a hand through Stiles’ pixie haircut. One of her tattoos was showing around her shoulder, the tip of a wing. Stiles turned her head to kiss Desiree’s wrist.

 

“I’m here for you, remember? Now.” She sat up, stretching Desiree’s leg over her lap and digging her fingers into the meat of her calf. “Let me take care of this.”

 

* * *

 

Desiree packed herself into her car and headed out to Stiles’ college not even two hours after she’d heard that the alpha had a full weekend to herself. They had been dating for almost six months already, and it was horrible having to be away from her for so long when she started school in September.

                                                  

The weather had been heavy enough when Desiree slid into her Camaro back in Beacon Hills, ozone thick in the air, the air at the nape of Desiree’s neck standing on end. By the time she rolled up to the parking lot of Stiles’ campus, a steady downpour lashed down from the evening sky. She was soaked to the bone by the time she managed to navigate her way through the grounds to Stiles’ dorm.

 

This was far from the first time she had been up to visit, so she knew exactly where to go. It probably wasn’t the best idea for an omega to be walking around unescorted in an alpha dormitory, but she had her gun tucked in the holster against her hip so she wasn’t too worried. At least she could scare off any unmated alphas that got a little too friendly.

 

Still, it didn’t stop her from feeling like a drowned rat by the time she finally made it to Stiles’ door, dripping and shivering. Desiree ran hot, but Novembers in northern California weren’t by any means warm enough to warrant running around in the rain in nothing but jeans and a thin dress shirt.

 

Her arms were folded tight over her chest when Stiles’ roomate opened the door.

 

Jessie sighed and looked behind her. “Your omega is here again. Seriously Stiles, pay a little extra to get your own room if you’re going to be doing this to me all the time.” She grabbed her jacket from beside the door and left the room, pausing to sniff Desiree and look her up and down. “The room is gonna smell like sex for a week again,” she grumbled, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Some of us aren’t as lucky; my omega is three states away, you know.”

 

Desiree’s eyebrows nearly receded into her hairline and Stiles snickered, pulling her into the room. “Yeah, yeah, heard it all before Jess,” she said, kicking the door shut behind her roommate. Once they were alone in the room, soft jazz drifting from Stiles’ laptop the only sound, Stiles cupped Desiree’s neck and kissed her. “You’re so cold,” she murmured against Desiree’s mouth, tugging the hem of her shirt away from her skin. Desiree watched her slowly undo the buttons and peel the sopping cloth from her body.

 

“You smell like your roommate.” Desiree said, wrinkling her nose. She’d never liked the scent; it was everywhere, even on Stiles’ side of the room.

 

Stiles laughed. “Yeah, she kind of lives here. Get your pants off.” 

Desiree grimaced as she shucked her sopping wet pants off, dragging the panties along with them, and pushed Stiles down onto the bed without preamble. As she mouthed hungrily at Stiles' neck, the alpha nosed at her temple.

 

"Have you eaten yet?" she asked, cupping the back of Desiree's neck with her palm, spreading warmth in a shiver down her spine.

 

"I haven't seen you for a month and _that's_ the question you ask?" Desiree asked, rolling her eyes and pushed them over to Stiles' bed. Even it stank of the roommate, as if she tended to make herself at home in Stiles’ personal space. "You said in September you would come home for weekends. You haven't been home more than once."

 

Stiles made a face. "Yeah, I know. I really am sorry about that. It's just - you hear so many horror stories about kids that throw their time away and end up stressed to the point of breakdowns during exam season, and I just - I wanted to learn from their mistakes, you know? And if I came down every weekend, there's no way I'd get any studying done. I'd be in bed the whole time." She poked Desiree's nose. "Exactly like what's happening now. Also, you didn't answer my question."

 

The omega rolled her eyes. "I ate this morning before I left. But I'm not hungry. At least not for food." She undid her bra, dropping it on the ground and grabbing Stiles' hand, putting it on her breast.

 

Stiles snickered childishly, tugging on a nipple and rolling it until Desiree's eyelashes fluttered. "After this," she hummed, "I'm gonna stuff you with so much cheap pizza, you'll explode."

 

"That a new kink of yours?" Desiree huffed, situating herself until she straddled one of Stiles' thighs and pressed against her.

 

Soon they were both naked on the bed, grinding against each other. Stiles wouldn't ejaculate unless Desiree was in heat, or they used one of their very special toys, but she still had a hard nub that felt great for both of them rubbing just inside Desiree’s cunt.

 

After nearly an hour of the slow, agonizing build and Stiles lay still quaking from her orgasm, Desiree burrowed with her under a thin sheet and mouthed at her shoulder. "Did she -" Desiree started, but her voice was hoarse so she cleared her throat and tried again. "Did she mean it when she said the room smells like us long after I'm gone?"

 

Stiles shrugged, running a finger along Desiree's shoulder. "Yeah, I don't know, I'm so used to the smell. But she sure complains about it for at least a week after." Stiles glanced at the her phone to get the time.

  


Feeling too entirely pleased with the answer, Desire lay quietly in the crook of Stiles' arm for a moment before she rolled out of bed and sauntered over to Stiles' desk, running her fingers over the surface. She stroked the computer, still playing faint music - something instrumental and rich with cellos - and tapped a key to make it come to life. Satisfied, she moved on to Stiles' hoodie draped over the back of the chair. It smelled faintly of the roommate when Desiree brought it up to her face. She wrinkled her nose and pulled it on over her head, swamped in the enormous red sweater but pleased.

  


"So, I wasn't really expecting you here today, and I kind of need to finish a paper. It's almost done, it’ll probably only take me like half an hour, do you mind?" Stiles asked, pulling on some sweat pants and a bra.

 

"I thought you were going to stuff me with pizza," Desiree said blithely, her mouth curling at the corners to show she was joking. Stiles answered with a triumphant smirk and held up her phone.

 

"I ordered it online while you were busy feeling up my desk. C'mere."

 

Desiree sighed, but she sauntered over to her alpha and let herself be pulled into Stiles' lap. "You're gonna stay the night, right?" Stiles asked, reaching up her own sweater to stroke gently at the curve of Desiree's hip.

 

She nodded, because it didn't even really matter if she ended up sharing the room with the roommate - Desiree needed to spend the night with her alpha. "I don't have any shifts this weekend, so I can stay ‘til tomorrow night if you want."

 

"Awesome." Stiles squeezed her hip. "Now get my bag and find some cash for the delivery guy. If I finish that paper before he gets here, I get to pick the movie we watch tonight."

 

Desiree stuffed her hands in the pockets of the hoodie, walking around the room. Whenever she smelled the roommate on something of Stiles', she ran her hand over it. Occasionally she glanced over to make sure the alpha wasn't looking and butted the furniture with her thighs.

 

She jumped several minutes later, nearly dropping the textbook in hand when Stiles crowed, "Done!" and shoved her fist into the air seconds before there came a knock at the door.

 

"Got that down to an art, have you?" Desiree chuckled, pulling the door open to receive the pizza. The beta there flinched at the scent of the room and Desiree's grin was positively feral as she pushed the cash at him and shut the door.

 

Desiree put the box down on the table, and Stiles opened the lid. "Meat lovers’ pizza. For my meat lover." She winked and took a slice, shoving the box at Desiree.

 

She was loathe to admit it at the risk of proving Stiles right, but she was pretty hungry after all. Desiree lasted all of fifteen seconds acting like she couldn't care less before tucking into the pizza like an animal.

 

"So, I think I wanna watch..." Stiles said around her second piece of pizza. "Oh! Brave! Yeah, we should watch Brave. That feisty red head looks amazing. And you can't say no because I won the challenge."

 

"Redhead?" Desiree muttered, licking the sauce from her thumb. Lydia had been a strawberry blonde all throughout Stiles' infatuation, and Stiles' roommate... she had red hair. Desiree narrowed her eyes. "You like red hair."

 

Stiles shrugged, licking her thumb when the noticed the fat drop of pizza sauce. "Red hair is cute, not many people have it. Are you jealous? Do you think I would like you any more if you had red hair?" She grinned slyly, watching Desiree, who wasn't an idiot. She could recognize when she was being baited. But recognizing it didn't mean she was any less affected by it.

 

"I don't know," she grumbled, moodily picking off a slice of pepperoni. "Would you?"

 

Stiles put on a thinking face, and Desiree threw a pillow at her. Stiles laughed and grabbed Desiree’s wrist until she dropped the slice back in the box. "I love you, everything about you, dumbass. I don't have a red head kink."

 

"I think you might," Desiree said, crawling up the bed toward her, a predatory gleam in her eye. "Which I find interesting, because to my knowledge you've never pushed a redhead against the wall, or fucked a redhead's mouth with your tongue, or taken a redhead by the thighs to let her ride your face while you ate her out until she cried. As I recall, you're brunette territory, Stiles."

 

"Yeah, well so are you." Stiles smirked, and they both looked up when there was a knock on the door.

 

"Are you two done fucking yet? This is my room too, remember!"

 

Desiree growled low in her throat and glared down at Stiles, like it was her fault her roommate had returned so soon. Stiles could empathize; she wasn't exactly ready to share their space at the moment, either.

 

"Not yet, Jess," Stiles called, stroking Desiree's jaw with her thumb. "Probably not for the rest of the night."

 

There were grumbled swears from the other side of the door, plus a grumble that Stiles would be cleaning the room for the next month. Desiree grinned, happy that she was gone.

 

"Wanna grab my laptop?" Stiles murmured against Desiree's temple nearly an hour later, after a long shower in the ensuite bathroom and an even longer christening of Stiles' comfy desk chair. "We can snuggle up and scent my bed a little more."

 

Desiree paused, her hand half way to the desk. "How did you-"

 

"You seriously think I didn't notice you touching everything in here? At one point I thought you were going to put a CD down your pants." Stiles said, a laugh in her voice.

 

"Don't tempt me," Desiree said blandly, and Stiles erupted into laughter.

 

"It's kind of hot how possessive you are," she giggled, nosing under Desiree's chin. "The room's gonna smell like you for ages."

 

"Good. It had better."

 

She pulled herself closer to Stiles, draping her arms across her back. "I want you to smell me all the time while you're here."

 

"You could just tell me you miss me," Stiles chuckled, kissing Desiree's nose. "I think I'd get it even then. But, you know.” She pressed the button to boot her laptop back up. “Driving across the state just to rub yourself over my furniture is cool too."

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

Stiles pushed the cart while Lydia went ahead, picking out yet more things that she insisted they needed for the baby. “Look, you have to have this book. Babies can communicate with sign language before they can speak, Stiles! Don’t you want her to be smart?”

 

“Are you trying to insult me?" Stiles reared back as if totally affronted. "She'll have me for a mom - of course she’s going to be smart!”

 

Still, she snatched the book from Lydia’s hand and tossed it in the basket, scouring the selection of books beside her. After a moment she blinked and jerked her arms out. “Wait, why am I doing this? I could go online and buy these for half the price. Put it back, Moneypenny!”

 

But Lydia pulled the book out of her reach, even though she was a good head shorter than Stiles - _with_ heels. “The baby is going to be here half a year, Stiles! You have to read up on it now so you’re prepared.”

 

“Unless sign language works inside the womb, I think we’re safe.” She finally grabbed the book and quickly took a picture of the cover with her phone so she would remember what it was called.

 

Lydia glared at her, but then they caught sight of the baby clothes isle and it seemed the book was forgotten.

 

Stiles’ phone pinged with Desiree’s tone and she scrolled over to it as she followed after Lydia absently. “The baby doesn’t need ironically adult hiking boots, Lydia,” she droned, frowning at the text.

 

[I need blueberries please.]

 

[Sure thing, hot stuff! Anything else for my baby and our baby? ;))]

 

[That’s it, thanks.]

 

“What is it?” Lydia asked, glancing over ballet slippers the size of Stiles’ thumb. “You’ve got an obnoxious thinking face on.”

 

“I’m not sure. Dee’s sending me polite texts. I think something’s up.”

 

The strawberry blond shuffled over to read the texts. “Maybe her phone has been stolen by blueberry-obsessed bandits.”

 

Stiles couldn’t help the grin on her face. “I’m kinda glad we never dated in high school. We’re too much alike, it wouldve been weird.” She pushed the cart to the side of the isle. “I’m going to grab blueberries and head home. We can shop for a stroller another day.” 

 

To be on the safe side, Lydia went off to find chocolate-covered blueberries and Stiles found some blueberry ice cream before they met up in the fresh produce aisle, stocked up, and made their way to the checkout.

 

“If there’s anything I can do to help,” Lydia started when they went their separate ways in the carpark, and Stiles laughed.

  
  
“The day my mate accepts help from anyone, I will eat my socks.”

 

Lydia grimaced at that, but didn't say anything. "Right. Well, hopefully you find the source of the polite texts. Let Desiree know I'm always happy to provide a little retail therapy if you're stressing her out." She went to her car while Stiles climbed into her jeep.

 

"Honey, I'm home," she crooned when she hopped out of the car, knowing very well that Desiree would be able to hear her as she gathered all the shopping bags and lugged them toward the house. She was able to turn the latch with the heel of her palm and pushed her way inside. "I've got lots and lots of blueberries for you, my darling, and all I need is you to tell me which you prefer - Dee?"

 

There was no answer, so Stiles listened for a heartbeat. Sounded like she was in their bedroom, but it was too fast for her to be asleep.

 

She set all the groceries down in the kitchen and quickly put away anything perishable before grabbing the box of yogurt-covered blueberries Lydia had found and tromping up the stairs. "Is this hide and seek? Are we gonna start playing a game now? Because I'm the one with the blueberry goodness here, and it's all yours if you just..." She poked her head into the bedroom to find it empty. But the ensuite door was ajar and Stiles toed off her shoes before she stepped into the bathroom.

 

The air was thick and hot with steam, and there Desiree was, soaked up to her chin in bathwater.

 

Stiles cautiously moved further into the little room. Desiree was obviously brooding, something she hadn't done for a couple years. Her knees were bent as far as they could go with her bump, and her arms were on top.

 

"Hey, Dee. I got your blueberries. We could go downstairs and eat them? Not that I'll eat any, they're all for you, I promise."

 

Desiree glanced over at her, eyes falling to the box in Stiles' hands before she sniffed and ducked her head.

 

 

"Desiree?"

 

"Thanks," she mumbled stiffly, shoulders hunched. "I'll be out in a bit."

 

"Hey, Dee." Stiles crouched down beside the bath, peering under Desiree's fringe to find her eyes. "What's going on?"

 

She sniffed, on the verge of tears. "You can stop rubbing it in my face, how good you are at this. All caring and shit. I already know."

 

Stiles was taken aback. "Dee, what are you talking about?"

 

All it took was another sniffle before a tiny broken noise erupted from Desiree's mouth and she covered her face with her hands, dark strands of hair falling forward into the water. She said something then, completely garbled and unintelligible and Stiles didn't know what to do.

 

So she tossed the candied blueberries onto the bathroom counter and pushed up her sleeves before reaching out and sliding her palm over the nape of Desiree's neck. Desiree cried and shook and Stiles just rubbed her thumb back and forth. "Do you want to get out now? Or am I gonna have to come in there?"

 

Desiree shook her head, still not looking up at her. "What's the point?" she asked, sniffing into her hands. Stiles pushed up her head, so that she could see her red eyes.

 

"Hey," Stiles murmured, brushing the dark wet strands of hair from Desiree's cheeks. "The point is so I can hold you and pester you into telling me what's got you so upset so I can tear it apart."

 

"That's not what I mean." The omega pulled away, rubbing at her eyes. "Babies need love, Stiles, and I can't- I don't- I just don't. Know how to. To.."

 

Stiles rolled back on her heels and stood, dragging her shirt over her head. "Okay, budge up," she said, wiggling out of her pants and underwear and socks, dropping the bra the the floor. Desiree made a halfhearted noise of protest, but she moved easily when Stiles stepped into the bath behind her and slid down to bracket the omega between her legs.

 

"Now." She wrapped both arms around Desiree's belly and rested her chin against the hot dampness of her shoulder. "Why on earth would that make you cry?"

 

Desiree shuddered, but still leaned back against her. "You don't get it, you'll be a great mother. I can't- I don't know how to raise a baby, Stiles. I'm so fucked up, I-I'll probably fuck her up, a-and she'll hate me and-" She stopped talking, dissolving into tears again. Stiles wiped her cheeks dry and pressed kisses to her shoulder.

 

"I read about this," Stiles said against her skin, punctuating the sentence with another little kiss. "Lots of expectant mothers feel this way, Desiree. It's totally normal to think you're gonna be a shit parent when the truth is, you're probably going to be our kid's idol. You were _mine_."

 

She shook her head, dark wet locks covering her face. "It's not the same! It's not in some fucking book, Stiles, I'm messed up. Most of my family is dead, and- and I don't know if I have room to love someone else. I don't want to mess her up like I'm messed up."

 

"You're not messed up, okay?" Stiles whispered. Her arms tightened. "You've gone to therapy, and you can go again if you think you need to, but you have _more_ than enough love for our whole family that we're building."

 

Desiree sniffed, rubbing a hand on the curve of her belly below where Stiles’ hands were interlocked. “What if I don’t? What if I _can’t_?”

 

Stiles was quiet for a moment. Her throat clicked when she swallowed, but she kept her voice even and soft. “You don’t have to,” she said slowly. “It’s still early enough. We... don’t have to have it.”

 

“No!” Desiree's voice echoing like a shot. “No more death. Just because I’m fucked up doesn’t mean we need to take it out on the baby. She’s never done anything wrong.”

 

Stiles pulled Desiree’s hair behind her shoulders so that it wasn’t in her face anymore. “And neither have you.”

 

Her eyes were puffy and red when she looked back at Stiles, cheeks blotched and nose runny, but Stiles just smiled and pressed her forehead to Desiree’s temple. “I love you,” she murmured, squeezing Desiree tightly. “And I know you don’t want to believe it right now, but I have so much faith in you. You’ve got a soft heart and a brilliant mind and you’re so strong, Dee. I’m so proud to be your mate, and the mother of your child.”

 

“Shut up,” Desiree blubbered, really moving back into Stiles for the first time.

 

“You can’t make me shut up about how much I love you. And how good a mother I know you’re going to be. And if you really want me to be obnoxious about it, I'll remind you every goddamn day." The thick, heavy feeling in the back of Stiles' throat didn't dissipate, not entirely, but she could feel her omega's tension begin to ease and it was enough. "Now, should we get dried up and go downstairs for a feast of blueberries?”

 

Finally, Desiree nodded and tried to push herself up out of the bath. Stiles helped her up, since it was already a bit of a challenge, even just toeing the line of the second trimester.

 

Desiree let Stiles dry her hair and dress her in something comfortable and lead her to the kitchen to stuff her with enough blueberry ice cream to make her burst, and all the while acting like Desiree hadn’t nearly spoiled the mood for the entire day. And eventually, when her stomach was full and Stiles had tucked a blanket around them both to settle in for a movie as the sun set low in the horizon, Desiree let herself begin to believe that maybe it wouldn’t be a disaster after all.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles waved as she pushed past the door of the precinct. She was home for spring break, and planned to spend as much of it as possible with her mate. Desiree lifted a magnificent brow of acknowledgment from her desk, but she was talking with another deputy for the moment so Stiles hung back.

 

The station was no different than it had been all her life, not really. Shirley still greeted her at the front desk like she always had, with a hug and a handful of butterscotch candy. The deputies she’d known since she was small teased her about her new haircut and the half sleeve tattoos freshly adorning her left arm, and her father turned tail the minute she caught sight of him with a danish pastry. But in an almost imperceptible way, things seemed... _off_. Deputy Green, deep in conversation with Desiree, a man whom Stiles had known most of her life, was awfully friendly with Desiree. Did he really need to stand so close? Smiling a bit too much? Sure, he was already in his forties, but he was an alpha after all, divorced from his beta mate years ago. An unattached, unmated alpha.

 

He clapped his hand over Desiree’s shoulder and for the first time in her life, Stiles felt a spark of anger toward the man. She narrowed her eyes and straightened her spine, pushing open the door to the office, turning their heads toward her. Smiling, she watched as Green’s hand fell off of Desiree’s shoulder. She’d just have to cover that scent later, no big deal.

 

“Sorry, was I interrupting?” she aske innocently.

 

Green smiled at her, like he always did. “Not at all, I was just about to leave. How’s school going, Stiles?”

 

“It’s fine, no complaints. Hey, get up to anything lately? I think I heard my dad saying something about you and some sort of locker room antics…?” She'd heard no such thing, of course, but the fact that the precinct lockers were the most notorious places for officeplace nonsense to go down, it was a decent enough stab in the dark. And an incredibly accurate one, apparently. A small spark of satisfaction licked at her insides when the color in his face drained.

 

“No, I - I’d better go speak to him now,” Green said, hustling out of the room leaving Desiree alone with Stiles. Instantly, she felt better humored and draped her arm around Desiree’s waist, fiddling with the gun in her holster.

 

“Hey, deputy,” she purred. “You look pretty hot with a gun.”

 

"Is it thrilling to know that I could shoot your foot off?" Desiree asked dryly. She stacked some papers and put them in their pile. "So why are you messing with Green? "

 

Stiles blinked owlishly and attempted to scoff, eyes rolling to the ceiling. "I don't know  _what_ you're talking about. I'm just here to compliment your striking figure and take you out to lunch and maybe bribe you into a quickie someplace questionable. What's that suspicious look on your face? Don't you want me to ravish you against a tree?"

 

"And have to be arrested for public indecency by your father, my boss? Pass." 

 

"Shut up, my dad  _loves_ you," Stiles insisted. "Granted, I'm not really sure how he would handle finding us in a compromising positions, so maybe it's best to keep that business at our respective households for the moment. Your place or mine, honeybunch?"

 

"I'm at work," Desiree said incredulously, fighting to repress a smile.

 

"Right." Stiles pulled over a chair, like she had been asked to. "Should I organize your paperwork? You know, for old time's sake and everything."

 

Desiree frowned. "I do actually have to get some work done, you know. If you stay here till my shift is over, you have to stay out of my way."

 

Stiles gasped, looking Desiree up and down. "It's just introducing me to one turn on after another today, isn't it? Think maybe when we get home, you could wear those guns and order me to do things, too?"

 

"I'm not hearing any of this," the sheriff said, crossing his arms and filling the doorway. Stiles whipped around to whine at him, and Desiree flushed with embarrassment.

 

"Sorry, sir."

 

"No need to apologize, deputy. Obviously it's my own daughter being the... distraction. Stiles, did I say you could come in here and bother everyone?"

 

"Bother? I'm not a bother! When have I ever bothered anyone? I'm too much fun for that, Dadio. I bring the entertainment."

 

"Yeah well, take  _the entertainment_ elsewhere. Deputy Hale has a good head on her shoulders; I don't want you ruining that for her with all your shenanigans. What have you been saying to Deputy Green?"

 

'Shenanigans,' Stiles mouthed to Desiree, to which the omega rolled her eyes and pulled her up bodily out of the chair. "Go mess around Scott or something. I'll see you tonight, Stiles."

 

She whined as she left the room, muttering about the unfairness of life. They both watched her go to make sure Stiles actually left.

 

She was in again the following day, and Desiree really hadn't done all that much to try and stop her. The half-hearted protests when Stiles hopped into the passenger seat did no more than to make her cackle and press a patronizing little kiss to Desiree's shoulder. She'd wanted to bug her father about a few little things, and she imagined that would eat up enough time to take Desiree out to lunch straight after.

 

They got to the precinct, and Desiree had to go out on a patrol almost immediately. "I'll probably be back in a few hours, Stiles," she said before going off with Detective Patricks, a female beta who was still fairly new on the force.

 

Stiles narrowed her eyes, watching Desiree disappear into the patrol car with the beta. Patricks was reliable enough, she supposed, but she was young and new to the force; Stiles didn't know her like she knew the other officers. And she was unmated. Sure, she was a beta, but it wasn’t unheard of for betas to dominate omegas.

 

It was easy enough to find out which desk belonged to Patricks, a quick conversation with the secretary gave her pretty much the whole layout of the desks in the office.

 

She didn’t touch anything, but instead she committed it all to memory with her scrutinizing stare.

 

Desiree texted her back long after Stiles sent a flurry of texts around lunch time, and while Stiles’ stomach rumbled while she waited for her mate to come back for lunch, Desiree’s text said,

 

[Sorry, Patricks and I stopped at Panera. Do you want anything?]

 

They were eating together now? While Stiles was in town? Stiles texted back, [Nope, I’m fine] and zeroes in on Patricks' desk. What could she get away with before they came back? It was then she noticed that her pens were in a jar, all the same type, all facing down. And everything on the desk was lined up perfectly, papers organized alphabetically in neat little piles. She narrowed her eyes and rubbed a thumb under her lip in consideration. Patricks was the kind of girl to know that something was off with her meticulous space - even the tiniest thing - and it would be a shame if something was just slightly _wrong_ with the desk, wouldn’t it? It would probably bug her for ages until she figured it out.

 

Stiles was utterly satisfied by the time Desiree returned from her patrol.

 

Patricks, however, could be seen fussing about her desk with a crease in her brow the size of the great rift all evening.

 

“What are you so smug about?” Desiree asked as they left the office. “You’ve been grinning like a moron ever since I got back.”

 

“Oh, nothing much.” Stiles said, draping an arm over her shoulders. 

 

There was no particular feeling of anger or violence when her father touched Desiree. In fact, in a weird way Stiles felt more settled; when two of the most important people in her life could share scents, something inside her rumbled with contentment. In fact, she tried to encourage it; inviting her father over to Desiree’s house (the renovated half, at least) to encourage familiarity, and dragging Desiree to her family home for barbeques with the McCalls and Martins, and for small intimate dinners between just the three of them.

 

The same could not be said for anyone else in the station.

 

Through her break, Stiles had 'misplaced' a very important file of Anderson's because he liked to put his hands on Desiree's shoulders and squeeze like he was invited to touch, before miraculously finding it an hour later when he was literally pulling his hair out. The secretary's teenage nephew, one of the interns, had stolen one of Desiree's homemade cupcake's right out of her fingers with a flirty little smile, so Stiles had sidled up next to him in the breakroom when he wasn't looking and punctured a hole in the bottom of his styrofoam cup, ensuring a slow trickle of dark brown coffee all over the front of his nice white polo shirt.

 

To be honest, Stiles was a little disappointed that it took her father and her mate that long to realize she was at fault for the spontaneous “office curse”, especially considering they were very nearly the only two that never fell prey to it. “Aren’t you a little old to be pranking my officers?” John asked warily, looking about a hundred years old as Stiles shrugged in the chair across from him.

 

“I say you’re never too old to have a little fun.”

 

"But why? You've known these people since you were small." The sheriff narrowed his eyes, still trying to make sense of it.

 

Desiree was looking at her, and Stiles thought that she probably had a good idea of why she was doing it.

 

"No real reason," she said, shrugging blithely. "I just wanted to have a little fun with everyone. It's been a while, you know? Keep them on their toes."

 

He rolled his eyes and then pointed the finger of doom at her. "You're going back to school in a few days, and I don't want any more pranks from you. Or you'll be grounded. Don't give me the 'I'm an adult and can't be grounded' speech, you're acting like a kid so I'll treat you like one." With that the sheriff dismissed them, and outside his office Desiree rolling her eyes.

 

"I know what you're up to," she said, and Stiles blinked innocently.

 

"Sorry? Up to? I don't know what you're -"

 

"I approve." Desiree leaned over, bracing her hands on the wall at either side of Stiles. "Highly."

 

 

"O... oh? Well, in that case." Stiles clamped a hand at the back of her neck and pulled her in close. "If you come home smelling like your partner," she murmured, sharing each breath with Desiree, "I'm probably gonna stoop to putting tacks on his chair."

 

 

"That's illegal," Desiree reminded her, but the hungry look in her eyes told Stiles she didn't exactly mind. 

 

 

"You gonna arrest me, officer?"

 

 

"I might." Desiree licked her lips and Stiles let her go, but not before taking one hard, seering kiss in the middle of the hallway. Stiles zipped up her jacket and glanced at Desiree's office pointedly before turning her eyes back to Desiree.

 

  
"I look forward to it."


	6. Chapter 6

Desiree was sentenced to bed rest at 37 weeks, which meant, essentially, that she shouldn't be on her feet for more than fifteen minutes at a time. She ended up spending her days on the couch, watching the trivialities of daytime television and eating whatever Stiles had left on the table that morning because it was difficult to stand up by herself.

 

Thanks to what was left of Desiree’s inheritance and what remained of the life insurance money after the house’s renovations had been completed, Stiles only worked half days. Financially there was no need for it at all, but they figured it might do them good to spend some time apart, and a little extra money couldn’t hurt. Still, most days all Desiree wanted by mid morning was for Stiles to come back and just exist there in her space.

 

She was home in time to make lunch, which was good because by noon Desiree’s 11 o’clock snack was beginning to wear off. Lately she had to be careful to only eat small portions, frequently throughout the day, because if she ate too much she would get heart burn. “Do we have Doritos?” she called, rubbing a hand over her belly and frowning at the book on the arm of the sofa baside her. Of course a child of Stiles' would have her craving something as bad for her as Doritos.

 

Stiles poked her head out of the kitchen. “No Doritos. We have regular tortilla chips, but I could go out and get some Doritos?”

 

Desiree wrinkled her nose and closed her eyes. “Never mind. Just shut up and come in here.”

 

After a second, Stiles walked in with a bowl of sliced melon and plonked it on the coffee table before sitting beside her. “What can I do for you, my queen?”

 

“You could change roles with me so that you’re the one who feels like a whale and hasn’t seen her feet in weeks. But other than that you could give me a massage.” One good thing about being on bed rest was that her feet didn’t hurt much anymore, but that mercy didn’t extend to the rest of her body.

 

“Of course,” Stiles said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “To the massage bit. ‘Fraid I can’t do the first thing. I’d lasso the moon for you, but you’re the one with the oven bun, babe.”

 

“Did I mention the fact that I want the massage to be silent?”

 

“I said I'd lasso the moon, not do the impossible. Besides, how is the widdle baby gonna know who I am if she can’t recognize my voice?” The last part she said in baby voice, making Desiree roll her eyes. Stiles had been talking more and more like that and the baby wasn’t even born yet.

 

“Just get me to bed, Stilinski.”

 

Stiles perked up. “Yes _ma’am_.”

 

She helped Desiree up the stairs, smiling indulgently through her grumbling complaints and eased her onto the bed after tugging the sweater up off of Desiree’s body.  

 

“I’m not having sex with you, so don’t try anything.”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Once she was down to her bra and her panties, Desiree laid carefully on her side. Now that her breasts were so much bigger, it was uncomfortable doing anything without a bra.

 

When Stiles put her hands on Desiree to massage her calves, a wave of lethargy swept over her and she made a little noise. "Come up here," she mumbled. Stiles shushed her and knelt down, bringing one of Desiree's legs back into her lap. Knocked off balance, she squeaked and rolled onto her back. Stiles snickered quietly, kissing her knee.

 

Desiree groaned as her aching muscles were massaged, Stiles finding knots easily and working them out. "I can't wait until this baby is out. I am so done with being pregnant."

 

Stiles hummed, letting Desiree's leg stretch over her lap as she moved on to the omega's thigh, kneading the soft flesh until Desiree was squirming and trying to contain little giggles.

 

"I know you don't feel well," Stiles said with a smile, "and this is a total cliche, but I think you look beautiful."

 

“You’re biased,” Desiree complained, whining when Stiles got a really tender spot. “This is so ridiculous, if werewolves can heal broken bones and any injury known to man, then why do we get knots in our muscles? It makes no sense. And stretch marks, how the hell do I have stretch marks.” Granted, not many, since Stiles rubbed oil all over her every single night.

 

“I love your stretch marks,” Stiles mumbled, reaching up to run her fingers over Desiree’s belly.

 

“If you start going on about how they’re ‘a beautiful part of me’ -”

 

“But they are!” Stiles interjected. She traced a mark with her fingers right where she knew Desiree was most ticklish. “You’ve got these cute little lines here that are like little reminders that we made the tiny life growing inside you. They’re beautiful _because_ they’re a part of you, dumbass.”

 

She glared for a minute, but was happy when Stiles urged her to sit up so that the alpha could sit behind her, getting to the muscles in her back. “I’ll probably have them for the rest of my life you know. Always there to show how fat I once was.”

 

“I read somewhere that they usually fade. Even if they don’t, I'll still love them.”

 

“It’s disgusting how sweet you can be,” Desiree grumbled, and Stiles laughed, kissing her hard on the shoulder.

 

“You make me want to be sweet, because you’re so sour. My sourwolf.”

 

“Oh my god.”

 

When Stiles had worked out all the knots, she went downstairs to make some food, leaving Desiree with her book. After they had eaten, the omega was already ready for her second nap of the day. Being pregnant was rather like being an enormous housecat, she figured. “Come to bed with me,” Desiree ordered, even though it was still rather early in the afternoon.

 

Stiles grinned and crawled closer, pressing her nose to Desiree’s jaw. Her voice was soft and low when she teased, “You know, you’re really cute when you make demands with this blanket tucked up around your belly.”

 

She glared until Stiles crawled under the blanket with her, resting on her side of the bed. Desiree had been hotter than normal the past couple of weeks, and had ordered the alpha to stop touching her in bed for god’s sake. It was no exception at the moment, no colder than usual, but even so Desiree made a little noise that caught Stiles’ attention in a heartbeat. “What’s up? What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” Desiree mumbled. “Just… come closer.”

 

“Oh? Should I take my clothes off?”

 

“Not like that. Just, we should... we should touch, we haven’t in awhile.”

 

Stiles raised her eyebrows in surprise, but shuffled over. An invitation to cuddle, even though she was running so much hotter than normal? The alpha couldn’t pass that up.

 

Just as she moved from her own pillow to Desiree’s, the pregnant woman reached up and over, and grabbed the unused pillow, stuffing it between her legs.

 

It took a few seconds for her to cop on, but when she did, Stiles nipped at Desiree’s shoulder. “You don’t want to cuddle, you just wanted my pillow!”

 

“I want you, too,” Desiree conceded with a quiet little huff. “I just wanted the pillow most.”

 

Stiles snaked her arms around her mate. “You could always just ask me to get some more from the closet.” 

 

 

“But that wouldn’t give me the same sense of victory taking yours does,” Desiree said, much to Stiles’ great amusement and despair. “And this one smells like you.”

 

“I know you’re just trying to appease me there, but it’s totally working. You’re too precious. And if you kick me away tonight I’ll probably cry.”

 

Desiree threw a smirk over her shoulder. “If I kick you away, there’s other pillows in the closet.”

 

* * *

 

When Stiles first suggested they move in together, Desiree felt a little silly for not having mentioned it first. She was the one with the big empty house, after all, and after two years together, it was probably long past a reasonable amount of time for one of them to have brought it up. So naturally, Desiree gestured toward the key to the renovated Hale family home dangling from Stiles' keychain, stating with what she hoped was some sort of dignity, "I wouldn't have given you a key if I didn't want you to live with me."

 

Stiles just rolled her eyes at that. "Typical Dee. So you expected me to just start moving my stuff in just because you gave me a key? It does actually require some conversation."

 

"No," Desiree corrected, " _you_ require conversation. Most people would just take the hint and move their things in."

 

"I've been living in a dorm the past two years!" Stiles defended, but the grin on her face nearly broke it.

 

"Exactly. You were going to school, you couldn't have moved in anyway." 

 

Stiles played with her key chain, contemplating the normal looking house key. "So, I'm not hearing any protests for me moving my stuff in."

 

"That's because there aren't any," Desiree snapped, and Stiles crowed in delight, throwing both arms around Desiree and squeezing the air from her lungs as she lifted her up.

 

"Oh my god, we're like a real committed family now! We should get a dog. Or a cat. Two cats? Something to come run and greet us at the door when we come home."

 

"I don't need fur everywhere. Couldn't you just want a fish or something?" She liked fish, minimal work and effort.

 

Stiles scrunched up her nose. "A fish can't great you at the door. We could get a hairless cat!"

 

Desiree looked absolutely affronted and Stiles had to let her down just to tuck her face into the omega's shoulder. "We're arguing about getting a pet together."

 

"I know, I was there."

 

Stiles tugged on a piece of Desiree's dark hair, held in a lose pony tail. "Well... Maybe one day we'll have someone to great us that  _doesn't_ have fur."

 

Almost imperceptibly, Desiree leaned into her with a quiet hum. "You think?" she said almost like an afterthought. "Like a butler?"

 

"Oh my God." Stiles burst into startled laughter. "I'm tying to be all sweet and romantic here, and this is when you decide to grow a sense of humour?"

 

"I've always had a sense of humor. I'm hilarious," Desiree said with a straight face that had Stiles giggling.

 

"Well then," she teased, "you shouldn't have anything bad to say about looking into the possibility of a hairless cat."


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles was pacing up and down the corridor, just as she had been on and off for the past half hour. Desiree sighed from her chair as she watched her mate. "Calm down, alright? The contractions are five minutes apart; it's not like I'm going to have a baby in the lobby."

 

"I know, just, seriously you're in labour right now, you’d think they could get us a freaking room. When my dad gets here he could order them to. You're a deputy - use that to your advantage! Use your crazy mind-bending interrogation tactics to land us a room."

 

Desiree let out a slow breath and closed her eyes as the most recent contraction dulled. Her fingers splayed over the massive swell of her belly and she said, "Don't be ridiculous. I can't abuse my authority like that."

 

"It's not...!" Stiles cut herself off, landing before promptly fidgeting in the cold plastic chair. A grunt of frustration pulsed in her throat before she brushed a dark strand of hair from Desiree's face and cupped the back of her neck. "Sorry. Sorry, I'm just - you're in pain here, the least they could do is upgrade you from a goddamn waiting room chair."

 

She grunted and nodded at nothing. "Help me up, I'm going to go for a walk." It helped with the pain somehow, if only a little bit. Gave her something to do besides wait for the next contraction to hit.

 

Hastening to do exactly that, Stiles pulled her mate to her feet and moved with her slowly along the hall. Desiree didn't know why she felt so calm when, if there was one time in all her life for panic to be utterly vindicated, it was now. And yet she was steady and cool, made even more so by Stiles' touch - despite her alpha's own hysteria.

 

A loud blast of music came from Stiles’ pocket and she flinched, grabbing her phone. “Dad? Are you here?” She listened for a second before pulling the phone away from her mouth. “He’s parking.” She went back to talking to him. “Well hurry up, you can’t miss the birth of my first daughter! Well, no, they’re still pretty far apart. And they haven’t gotten us a room yet. But you never know, she could start pushing in a few minutes and have the baby right here!”

 

“You know that’s not how it works, right? It’ll probably be a f-” She cut herself off as another contraction hit, and Desiree clutched to Stiles’ hand for the duration. “Few hours.” She finished when the pain left her.

 

Stiles let out a little noise and pressed her forehead to Desiree’s. “Can we get you drugs? What do you need? What can I do? I swear to god Dee, I will raid this entire hospital for -”

 

“ _Stiles_.”

 

The alpha fell silent and brought Desiree’s knuckles to her lips. “Do you want to keep walking?” she murmured after a moment.

 

Desiree nodded, and they started again. “Walking helps, I think. Makes it easier.” Desiree glanced at Stiles, who was worrying her bottom lip. “Are you still timing between contractions? That’s what they told us to do.”

 

“Yeah, the last one you got was just under five minutes.” The alpha kept glancing at the door, waiting for the sheriff to come in.

 

When he finally did, stepping into the waiting room with all the authority of a true alpha, Stiles deflated in relief. Desiree leaned into her as he approached, and Stiles steadied herself instantly. The sheriff’s presence did that. “You look like hell, Deputy.”

 

“Thanks, John,” Desiree huffed, and Stiles let out a little panicked giggle.

 

“We’re still waiting, Dad. We’ve been here ages, and she’s in  _labor_. She needs a room.”

 

The sheriff put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder, calming her down. “They’ll get her a room as soon as they can, don’t worry. The baby will come when she’s good and ready, and not a minute before that. It probably won’t be for a good long while. Your mother was in labour for 21 hours, you know.” Lately, with Desiree pregnant, John had been talking more and more about Stiles’ mother, like he was more comfortable visiting the memory of her now. Stiles looked down at Desiree, smoothing a hand over her hair.

 

“I don’t think I could watch you in pain for that long,” she confessed quietly, and Desiree’s eyelids drooped.

 

“Then let’s hope she doesn’t take after you in that way.”

 

“We can only hope,” John agreed, looking over his shoulder at the nurses’ station.

 

A white haired nurse came out into the lobby with a wheel chair. “Alright, we have a room for you now, Ms. Hale-St...Stilinski, was it?” She had trouble with the name, but Stiles was far too relieved to make any snarky comments.

 

“Thanks, but I don’t need the chair,” Desiree informed her.

 

Stiles looked like she wanted to protest, but to Desiree’s relief she didn’t, just pressed a hand to the small of her back as they followed the nurse down the hall of the maternity ward. Unlike the movies they’d grown up watching, there was no chorus of shrieks and pained cries as they walked down the corridor; there was only the soft thrum of medical equipment and low voices, the shuffle of footsteps as nurses passed by. Outside the door of one room, a man stood cradling a tiny bundle swathed in yellow. His eyes were rimmed with dark, tired smudges, but there was an emotion in them so soft and private that Desiree had to look away.

 

They eventually reached an empty room, and the nurse showed them how to use the call button, how to move the bed, and said that if she wanted to use it there was a bath in the adjoining bathroom. “The doctor should be in in a few minutes to check how far you’ve progressed,” she finished, and excused herself from the room.

 

“Do you want to lie down?” Stiles asked, looking and smelling only a fraction as anxious as before, now that Desiree had a room and a bed. John dropped their preparation bag on a chair by the bed.

 

“You two make yourselves comfortable,” he said, pulling a soft microfiber blanket from home out of the bag and draping it over the bed. “I’m going to grab some coffee. Water?” he asked Desiree.

 

She nodded and sat on the bed, not wanting to lie down just yet. “Thank you for… being here.” It was nice having a father here, even if it wasn’t her own. Stiles grabbed Desiree’s hand, squeezing it lightly.

 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ll leave you two alone.”

 

When the door shut quietly behind him and they were alone, Stiles couldn’t help but put her hands on Desiree, touching her hair, her neck, her face, her stomach. Desiree leaned into the touches, tensing up when another contraction came to pass. She gripped Stiles’ hand fiercely, and Stiles just stroked her back until the pain began to dull and fade. “If you want to lay down,” Stiles said softly into her hair, “I’ll rub your ankles.”

 

Desiree shook her head. "If I lay down now I won't want to get up. After the doctor comes and checks on me, I want a warm bath." She had read that it helped with the pain, which was something that she could really use right now.

 

"Okay, that's fine. You'll probably have to lie down when the doctor comes though."

 

The omega had been uncomfortably hot all day, and not in the heat sort way that always bore the promise of good things to come. She had been restless from the moment she woke, and yet she was exhausted all the same. Stiles had had the foresight to take off work, sensing innately that something was amiss.

 

Desiree always just assumed her water would break and herald the coming of their baby, that they would just pick up their duffel bag full of hot compresses, Desiree's favorite throw, Stiles' old tiny baby blanket, and a thousand other miscellaneous items to ensure Desiree's comfort, and go.

 

So she hadn't been expecting the first contraction to hit her dully, so innocuous that she just assumed it was a cramp. The second one hit a while later after lunch, and she'd chalked it up to gas. Desiree was almost embarrassed to admit that it wasn't until the fourth contraction that she realized she was going into labor, dramatically broken water or not.

 

In fact, her water had still not broken, even though her contractions were less than five minutes apart. She laid down on the bed as the doctor came in. "You're not Dr. Deaton." The female beta smiled and tugged on a pair of gloves.

 

"We've called him, and he's on his way. If you want we can wait ‘til he gets here, but I thought I would see how far along you are, maybe break your water to get things moving faster."

 

Desiree looked up at Stiles who gripped her hand and looked back. "Whatever you want to do, babe," Stiles murmured. "What do you think?"

 

"Could I... could I bathe first?"

 

"Of course," the young beta said, pushing open the door to the tiny ensuite bathroom to start the water up.

 

Desiree tensed up when another contraction hit her. They were steadily getting stronger, but they were still bearable. Hopefully the water would help.

 

When the doctor had the bath running, she returned to Desiree's bedside. "It'll be ready for you soon. Do you need my help getting in?"

 

"We should be fine. Thanks." Stiles grabbed her mate by the arm to help her off the bed.

 

In a way, Desiree didn't mind that Stiles didn't like other people to touch her in that state. They shared a possessive streak a mile long between them, but Stiles' had intensified tenfold since Desiree had been pregnant. One of Desiree's secret, utterly unfounded fears had always been that Stiles might lose interest when she was pregnant - if Desiree's sex drive had been low, or she was too cranky, or demanding, or if Stiles just naturally drifted away - so the fact that in reality Stiles could barely keep her hands or eyes off of Desiree was more than a relief.

 

As she was lowered into the tub, she let out a sigh of relief. It really did help with her aches and pains, not to mention the next contraction. They were definitely getting closer together, though she doubted that she would be pushing any time soon. Stories they had heard from the birthing class suggested they could be waiting for hours and hours. Some omegas said that the waiting was the worst part.

 

Stiles knelt on the floor beside the tub and rested her cheek on one folded arm. “You look good,” she said with a dopey smile on her face. “You’re doing so well. You’ve barely broken a sweat. How am I supposed to be all badass and cool for you when you’re imitating a cucumber over here?”

 

“I’m sure you’ll have enough to deal with when I start pushing.”

 

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. By this time tomorrow, we’ll both be mothers.”

 

Desiree’s eyes fluttered open and she looked over at Stiles, lips parting. “We’re having a baby,” she said in quiet wonderment. Stiles’ smile widened and she leaned in, planting a hard kiss on Desiree’s mouth.

 

“We’re having a baby,” she confirmed with a quick little giggle, pressing her forehead to Desiree’s.

 

“Is this news?” John called from outside the bathroom, making them both break into quiet laughter together.

 

“Well, Deaton just called me, he said he wouldn’t be very long, maybe twenty minutes at most. I’ll… leave you two alone to do… what you’re doing.” The sheriff shuffled around in the room, left a coffee for Stiles, and closed the door behind him so they could have some more privacy.

 

Stiles hummed, smoothing Desiree’s wet hair back and peppered her forehead with kisses. “You’re amazing, Dee.”

 

“Shut up and let me soak,” Desiree glared, but Stiles clucked her tongue.

 

“No, you’re gonna suffer through this, because I have to suffer through your beautiful face every day. You’re amazing, and you’ve got a soft little molten chocolate center under your totally unconvincing bitter exterior, and I love you very much. And we’re gonna have a sweet little kid who’s gonna keep us up at night and drive us crazy, but she’ll be yours and mine. I couldn’t ask for anything more, you know? I love you like crazy.”

 

Desiree rolled her eyes and wound her hair into a bun so it wouldn’t get wet as she sank deeper into the tub. “Well I don’t love you at all. You’re too clingy.” She didn’t even try to hide the lie, as obvious as the smirk on her face.

 

By the time Deaton got there, Stiles had helped her out of the tub and into a flimsy hospital gown. He grinned at the door, walking to the sink to wash his hands. “How is it going? The contractions are fairly regular, are they?”

 

“About four minutes apart,” Stiles answered, looking to Desiree for confirmation. The omega finally let Stiles ease her down in bed for the long haul, bunching the blanket with the familiar scent of home under her head while Deaton towelled his hands dry and approached the bed.

 

“And how are you feeling, Desiree?”

 

“Like crap. But I stand by my decision, I don’t want an epidural for this.” It didn’t matter how painful it got, Desiree was determined to get through it without any drugs.

 

He nodded and pulled on a pair of gloves. “I respect your choice. Now, let’s see how dilated you are.”

 

Desiree grimaced when he did his check, but it was only for a second. “Alright, you’re at about four centimeters. I’ll want you to progress to ten before you start pushing, because we don’t want any tears, alright?”

 

Stiles’ hand tightened around her own, and Desiree nodded wordlessly. “What can we do to deal with the pain?” Stiles asked as Deaton went about scribbling on his chart.

 

“Keep hydrated,” Deaton answered, nodding toward the bottle of water beside the bed. “You’re going to need to drink plenty of fluids. Breathing exercises. I’m sure if you have any aches or pains, Stiles will be happy to help. And if you ever change your mind about the epidural, the option is always there. Now. We’re going to break your water to speed things along, alright?”

 

Desiree nodded and closed her eyes, holding onto Stiles' hand as the doctor broke her water. There was a strange gushing feeling that kind of felt like she had wetherself. "Alright, it should progress quicker now. I'll be back in a while to check on you, if you need anything just press the call button."

 

Half an hour passed and Stiles managed to convince Desiree to shut her eyes and press her face to the blanket, which soothed her greatly. The scent of home and Stiles’ hands gently kneading and squeezing her calves and thighs made it so much easier to ride out the contractions.

 

After a while, the sheriff came in with some food for Stiles. Desiree had been told to only have water, and she wasn’t even hungry. By then the contractions were much more closer together, two minutes by Stiles’ watch. They went for another walk, just down the hallway and back, and then she went back into the bath. So far, it had been just over six hours since she felt the first contraction.

 

Stiles was utterly patient and hyperattentive, her hand in Desiree’s when her fingers so much as twitched, pressing the glass to Desiree’s mouth when her throat went dry, stroking her hair and murmuring quiet things when she felt like bursting into tears. And it hurt, it hurt so badly, like she was being torn apart bit by bit, and it felt like nothing would make the baby come faster.

 

Deaton came and checked on her twice more in the coming hours, and at the last one she was almost fully dilated. The doctor told her this was her last chance to get an epidural, and the thought was nice, to have the pain stop, to be able to sleep for a while. But Desiree shook her head. “I don’t want to be dull when the baby comes.”

 

“Baby,” Stiles rumbled in her ear, nearly subvocal at that point, half on top of the hospital bed with her to lend Desiree her strength and support. “Oh, baby. You’ve gotta hurry. I don’t like your mom to hurt like this, baby, it’s driving me crazy.”

 

“Stop talking to my stomach,” Desiree said tiredly. At least Stiles wasn’t singing to the baby this time.

 

Stiles rubbed a hand over the hospital gown on her stomach, and leaned down to kiss it. “I can talk to my baby girl as much as I want. She’ll be here soon. Maybe within the hour.”

 

“God willing,” Desiree muttered under her breath, and Stiles turned her head to smile at her.

 

“You remember how I told you you’re amazing?”

 

“I swear to ever loving fuck, Stilinski -”

 

“You’re more than amazing. You’re a  _goddess_.”

 

Desiree closed her eyes and let out a pained grunt when another contraction ripped through her, panting harshly through it. She certainly didn’t feel like a goddess. She felt tired and sticky and awful and she just wanted to go home and curl up in bed and fade away into nothing, anything but this kind of pain. Stiles cupped the back of her neck and Desiree turned to find the blanket, soft and warm and comforting, breathing in its scent.

 

But it wasn’t enough. Already the blanket was starting to smell clinical, like hospital antiseptic. Desiree grabbed Stiles by the hand, bringing it up to her face and sniffing her wrist. Yes, this was the smell she needed, the scent of her alpha, her caring alpha who was here with her. Desiree closed her eyes, just breathing Stiles in.

 

“So good,” Stiles said to her hair, like the first time Desiree had let her inside, had let herself be fucked, and the same awe and reverence was in her voice now as Desiree lay pale and shaking and in pain on the hospital bed. “You’re so close, Desiree. She’s coming soon. Can you breathe with me? Just like me, okay? Here we go…”

 

She started breathing in and out like Stiles, but it caught in her throat as another contraction left her breathless. “C-come in bed with me,” she begged, looking up at Stiles. Desiree moved over so she was at the edge of the bed, which didn’t leave much room since it was so small, but she needed Stiles pressed up against her.

 

Stiles didn’t protest; she jumped up on the small hospital bed, tucked against her side as best she could. After a minute she had to throw an arm over Desiree so that she wouldn’t fall off. It was easier this way to at least pretend like they were at home dozing, instead of at the hospital and in pain.

 

Deaton caught them in this position several minutes later, and Stiles got off the bed so that he could examine Desiree. When he said that it was time to push, the omega nodded, pulling Stiles close as she put her legs up and began to push.

 

Desiree tucked her face against Stiles’ neck, smelling sweat and heat and mate there, nearly choking with the pain. A huge part of her regretted her prid , cursed herself for not taking the drugs because anything,  _anything_ would be better than this. She let out a little wail and Stiles gathered her closer, as though she could somehow take Desiree into her body and hide her away from her own agony. “Push,” Deaton instructed, sounding far away.

 

This part was so much more painful than before, all of it centered in a sharp pain, which only got worse. “You’re doing so good, babe, so good, just keep breathing,” Stiles was saying, even though Desiree was hardly listening anymore.

 

It felt like an entire day passed before Stiles was gasping and radiating excitement, vibrating in her skin. “She’s coming!” she said, her tone changed from the encouraging chanting she’d been urging Desiree on with for god knew how long. “She’s coming, Dee, oh my god, keep going!”

 

“I am!” Desiree growled, pushing harder when Stiles laughed breathlessly.

 

“Almost there, one more good push should do it,” Deaton said from between her legs. Desiree felt as if she was being split apart, but clenched up and pushed with all of her might. A second later, a tiny wail sounded in the room, and Desiree was left with a sharp, stinging ache.

 

Desiree was beyond exhaustion, too tired even to pass out, so she just lay there listening to Stiles and Deaton murmur to each other and to the little, muffled bundle of twitching limbs. Deaton dragged a warm, wet cloth over the baby’s body, and a couple nurses moved quietly in and out of the room to assist while Stiles turned, trailing her fingers over Desiree’s cheeks. “You did so well,” she whispered, nudging Desiree’s temple with her nose. “So good. She’s perfect, Dee.”

 

The omega held out her arms for the small bundle, even though she was tired from pushing. Stiles put the baby against her chest, and Desiree looked down at the small face. "Claudette," she mumbled. "I want to call her Claudette."

 

She could hear Stiles’ breath hitch in her throat at the gentle but utterly unsubtle tribute to Stiles’ lost mother. “It’s so fancy,” she murmured, cupping the back of the tiny girl’s head. The yellow onesie the nurses had managed to stuff her in once she was clean was soft and warm, and Claudette finally began to settle once the room was quieter and Stiles had wrapped her in the old baby blanket.

 

John was allowed to reenter then, and every laugh line in his face deepened as he smiled. Stiles smiled back, laying curled against Desiree with their baby tucked between them.

 

The sheriff then brought out his phone and looked about to take a picture until Desiree pierced him with a glare. “Don’t you dare. If you need a picture, take one of Stiles and the baby, not the girl who has been in labour for twelve hours.”

 

Sheepishly he put away his phone, nodding. “Could have been worse. Claudia threw a lamp at me when I tried to take a picture of her and Stiles.”

 

“You look amazing,” Stiles said with a dopey smile pressed into Desiree’s hair. “And look at the baby’s hair - look at it!” Atop Claudette’s head, downy hair grew wild and dark, so much thicker than any of them had been expecting. “Holy shit,” Stiles’ marvelled gleefully, running her fingers over Claudette’s head and lifting the tufts.

 

“That explains the heartburn,” Desiree snorted, running a finger down the baby’s face. “Do you think I should try and feed her? She doesn’t seem hungry…”

 

John shuffled his feet. “Well, if you’re going to do that I guess I’ll go back to the cafeteria. Either of you need anything?”

 

Stiles’ soft look went sharp. “You’re down at the cafeteria a lot, Dad. You’d better not be eating anything that could potentially limit the amount of time you have on this earth to spend with your brand new grandchild.”

 

“Would you rather I stay here while your mate breastfeeds? And I haven’t been eating much, anyway.”

 

She stood up, hand on Desiree’s shoulder. “If you’re not eating then what are you doing there?” Stiles was looking at him with suspicious eyes, which never boded well.

 

“Oh, you know, reading a newspaper, talking with a few patients, and a nurse…”

 

“A nurse? Dad, are you hitting on a nurse?”

 

Claudette made a noise and Stiles’ attention was entirely refocused. John made a quick escape while he could, and Stiles didn’t even bother to go after him, perfectly content where she was to move closer to Desiree and the baby. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, rubbing a thumb over Claudette’s cheek. “Did I upset you? I didn’t mean to. I’ll be quiet now, shh shh.”

 

“She might as well get used to your loud voice now, because it’s not going to stop for the rest of her life.” Desiree leaned down and kissed the baby on her head. “Alright, I’m going to try feeding her. Can you undo the tie?” She leaned forward so that Stiles could get to the loose knot tying the dressing gown up, and once it was off she moved the gown to expose one of her breasts. Stiles’ hand slipped under Desiree’s hair to cup the back of her neck with one hand while the other moved to help keep Claudette steady against Desiree.

 

“She’s so tiny,” Stiles said quietly, catching one small pink ear in between her thumb and forefinger. Seven pounds, six ounces Deaton had said in the flurry of preparing Claudette for her mothers.

 

“Surprised you haven’t twittered a picture yet.”

 

“ _Tweeted_ , and you’ve already said how opposed to pictures you are right now. I want the first picture of her to be in her mother’s arms.” Claudette spent a while nosing around until she found Desiree’s nipple, and she latched on and started sucking, without even opening her eyes. Stiles let out a little coo and tucked her cheek in the crook of Desiree’s shoulder to watch her, utterly smitten. “We made a really cute kid, Dee.”

 

 

  
“Yeah,” Desiree hummed, wincing when little gums pulled a bit too hard at her sensitive nipple.

 

“Like,” Stiles continued, “insanely cute. She’s going to destroy us. She'll be spoiled rotten.”

 

After a minute, Claudette pulled off, her face screwing up before she gave a stuttered cry. "I think she needs to be burped." Desiree handed her to Stiles, who was in a better position for the burping. The alpha took her small baby carefully, before resting her against her shoulder.

 

"Who has the best gassy face in the world?" Stiles cooed, patting her back gently. "You do! Yes you do!"

 

"I think you can pat her a little harder," Desiree said, fuzzy memories surfacing about her baby siblings growing up. Stiles looked scandalized, and Desiree rolled her eyes. "She's not going to break."

 

"She could! What if I don't know my own strength?" Stiles asked, but did pat her back a little bit harder.

 

Desiree held out one of the baby towels that had ended up on the bed. "Take this before she pukes on your shirt. The joys of parenthood."

 

Stiles took the towel and put it under Claudette's face, before looking down at her mate with a stupidly fond expression. "We're parents."

 

The omega smiled tiredly. "She just spit up in your hair."

 

* * *

 

A short cry fell from Desiree's mouth as she came, rutting against Stiles' hand while hot water pelted her back from the power shower. Stiles mouthed at the side of her neck, slipping her fingers in and out of Desiree's bucking body until she whined from the near-painful touches on her overly sensitive cunt. She caught the omega about the waist when Desiree's legs turned to jelly and eased her onto the edge of the tub.

 

Stiles grinned, pushing the long, wet strands of hair from Desiree's glowing cheeks. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to jump you." Panting, Desiree eyed her dubiously, and Stiles just laughed. "No, seriously! I just heard you in the shower and thought you might like some company. And I couldn't even wash my hair before - well. I'll just do that now, okay? You chill out there for two seconds."

 

"So you just wanted to screw my brains out and hijack my shower." But she was still recuperating from that last orgasm, so she couldn't exactly do anything about it.

 

Stiles threw a grin over her shoulder. "It's just nice to know that I can do that to you outside of your heat."

 

Desiree leaned against the cool wall of the shower, watching water and soapsuds sleuce down the line of Stiles' body with great interest. "This is all your fault, you know," she griped, glaring when Stiles turned a honeyed amber glance over her shoulder. "My sex drive was never this..."

 

"Voracious?" Stiles supplied with a grin full of teeth.

 

"--  _Insatiable_ until you waltzed into my life."

 

"Well that's because I choose to think you never had a sex life before I came along. Here, if you turn around I'll loofa up your back." She grabbed the poof and some soap, covering it in suds.

 

"You make me all dirty and then clean me up?"

 

"You know it, beautiful." Stiles pulled Desiree up on shaky legs and turned her around, rubbing scratchy-slow circles over the breadth of Desiree's shoulders and down her spine. "I like to hope there's  _something_ I can do for you. If orgasms and loofa rubs are it, then you shall receive them in abundance."

 

Desiree became quiet as Stiles methodically made her way down Desiree's spine. "I'm sure there are other things you do for me. You cook sometimes."

 

"I do the laundry too. I'm obviously an amazing mate for my amazing omega." Stiles used her free hand to run ovee Desiree's soapy, loofa-sensitized hip. Desiree made a little noise and nearly leaned back into her.

 

 

"This was the sort of counterproductive thing that lead us both to forgetting to shower," she reminded Stiles, but no part of her wanted Stiles to remove her hands. Stiles must have known because she snickered quietly and pressed a kiss to the curve of Desiree's shoulder.

 

"It's just so exciting to get all the things I can do for you out in the open," she teased.

 

Desiree turned around in her mate's arms, pulling her into a kiss. "We do a lot for each other, don't we? We both have stable jobs, a good household, your father is in good health, and your student loans will be paid off within the year."

 

Stiles lifted an eyebrow. "Yep, so we're pretty much perfect. Why does this feel like it's leading to some revelation?"

 

Opening her mouth and then thinking better of it, Desiree let out a little huff of laughter and took the loofa from her hand. "I think this probably isn't a conversation for the shower."

 

They turned off the steady stream of hot water and stepped out of the tub, toweling themselves dry and throwing on whatever sleep clothes were the most convenient to grab on sight. Desiree just pulled on a pair of panties and Stiles' old red hoodie and headed downstairs first to put the kettle on while Stiles searched for a pair of pajama pants for herself.

 

When Desiree was grabbing mugs and tea bags, she heard Stiles behind her before a pair of arms wound around her waist. "I love it when you wear my hoodie like that. It's so sexy."

 

"I could wear a garbage bag and you'd think it was sexy," Desiree pointed out with a wry little smile. Stiles snickered into the back of her neck, pressing kiss after kiss there.

 

"Because it would be. Want something to eat? This feels like we'll be heading into heavy conversation territory and that always gets me hungry."

 

"No, you go ahead, I'm fine with tea." The water started boiling so Desiree poured it into the two mugs. "I'll meet you in the living room?"

 

Stiles took her tea and nodded. "Alright. Will I have to be sitting down for this?"

 

"You could probably stand on your head if you want, but I don't think that's the proper way to carry out a discussion."

 

Stiles squeezed the back of her neck and let it go for the moment, disappearing into the living room. Desiree took her time preparing the tea and running over what she wanted to say in her mind, pouring honey into Stiles' cup and milk into her own before carrying the steaming cups in after her alpha.

 

Stiles was sitting still except for her leg jostling up and down, like she wasn't able to stop moving. "So what is it? You've got me anticipating something now."

 

Desiree put both mugs down on the coffee table. "Well, my heat will be coming up in about a month. And I was just thinking that maybe we should talk about... about whether or not we're ready to start a family."

 

There was silence for a couple seconds, Stiles taking the time to sip her tea. "Oh. Okay. Really? I mean, that's awesome, I totally want a family with you, but what do you think? Think we're ready for kids?"

 

Making an amused little noise, Desiree nestled down in the plush armchair across from Stiles, tea cupped in her palms. "Not entirely anymore, since you responded to the suggestion with the words 'awesome' and 'totally'."

 

Stiles rolled her eyes and lightly pushed at her knee with an outstretched foot. "Shut up, you know how my speech patterns are. But you've obviously been thinking about it for a while, so you do think that we can take care of a kid right now? And what about your job, I wouldn't feel safe with you going out on patrol if you were pregnant."

 

Desiree leveled her with a stare. "Obviously there would come a point where I'd be limited to deskwork if we decided to. But beyond that, if we are stable and... and ready, which I think we are..." Her voice went quiet and she dipped her head down to take a sip of her tea. "It's - it's important to want it too. We could be the most prepared couple in the world, but if we weren't sure we wanted it, we really shouldn't have one."

 

The tick of the clock above the mantle filled the quiet room before Stiles cut through the silence with a noise. "Well of course I want a kid with you. If it wasn't for me going to school at the time I would have wanted one with you when we first got together. It's just never been a good time. But I guess you're right, there is really nothing stopping us now."

 

"I don't want to have a baby just because there's nothing stopping us," Desiree said, like she was trying to be patient and failing. "Or because we have the biological urge, or because we feel like we're supposed to, or because you feel like we should just because I want to." Her toes fidgeted. "I want to raise a family, Stiles, but only if we both share the same want."

 

Stiles' eyes locked in on Desiree's, penetrating with their intensity. "Of course I want one. It's not biological or anything - or maybe that plays a part in it, I don't know, ask science - but it's because I love you completely, and would love any kid that we'd have. You just kind of surprised me is all."

 

"It's a big commitment," Desiree pointed out, resting her mug on the coffee table. "It's life-changing. We won't have as much time to ourselves, and we'll have to childproof the house, and we'll have to expose whatever potential child we have to the shitty world we live in."

 

"We'll have to live through their teenage phase," Stiles said, a look of horror dawning on her face. "We'll have to teach them how to be more sociable than we ever were... oh god."

 

"Dirty diapers and no sleep," Desiree added

 

Stiles' grin was enormous. "Sounds like fun. I think we should do it."

 

The line of Desiree's mouth softened and she tried not to look too hopeful. "Yeah?"

 

"Yeah." Stiles reached out a hand and Desiree obligingly crept closer after a precursory eye roll and allowed herself to be pulled into Stiles' lap.

 

"We're gonna have a baby," Stiles exclaimed, ducking her head in Desiree's shoulder happily.

 

"But I don't think we should tell anybody until we know for sure we're pregnant. Just in case." She knew how people acted when a mated pair told everyone they were going to try for a baby and then it didn't happen. She could really go without looks of pity for the rest of her life.

 

"Okay," Stiles agreed. Desiree had the feeling she could say just about anything and Stiles would agree to it. She nosed at Desiree's neck and made a little noise of delight. "Okay, we'll keep it a secret. And we'll - we'll try this heat?"

 

"It could take a few heats," she reminded Stiles gently, combing her fingers through the short, dark strands of Stiles' hair. "It could work outside of the heat if you want to try..."

 

"Try? Sure, we could try. We could try right now?" Stiles grinned, leaning closer and kissed along Desiree's neck. "We could go upstairs and try until we get too tired. And then try again in the morning."

 

"Well, I'm not off the birth control yet," Desiree mused as her eyelashes fluttered. "But I'm not opposed to trying, if - if you're that excited to make a baby." Which was probably one of the weirdest things that had ever come from Desiree's mouth, but Stiles seemed pretty far from turned off if the quiet rumbling growl and possessive hands sliding over the curve of her ass were any indication.


	8. Epilogue

"Claud, don't forget your backpack! Your little Power Rangers backpack, it's so freaking cute, and now it's going off to kindergarten to be changed forever." Stiles sniffed, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "The Power Ranger backpack is growing up, Dee, and there's nothing we can do to stop it."

 

Desiree rolled her eyes and crouched down to catch the little girl running full-tilt around the corner, wiping the Pop Tart crumbs from the side of her mouth. "Did you remember to brush your teeth?" she asked, and Claudette smiled sheepishly.

 

"No, Mama."

 

"It would have made breakfast taste gross, huh?" Stiles said, wrinkling her nose, and Claudette giggled.

 

"Go on and brush them," Desiree instructed, patting her on the butt to get her moving.

 

Stiles' eyes were still shining as they watched their daughter run up the stairs. "Kindergarten. Next thing it'll be college, and she'll be moving away from us."

 

"I think we have a while to go before that. You skipped right over the teen years."

 

"Just like I hope to do in reality," Stiles sighed, draping an arm over Desiree's shoulders when she stood. "We can always hope our precious little angel will be just as good to us in ten years, but statistics suggest otherwise."

 

"Wasn't that the point of this one?" Desiree said, spreading a hand over the barely visible swell of her belly. "A fallback for when we can't stand her anymore?"

 

"Well yeah, but then we'll need another one when  _this_ one goes to kindergarten." Stiles grinned when Claudette came downstairs, her cute school dress slightly rumpled. "You have your lunch?"

 

"Uncle Scotty said he would take me for a burger," she explained primly.

 

"A burger in your brand new dress?" Desiree asked, narrowing her eyes at Stiles as if she was the one to blame. "Grandpa might be sad if you get it messy."

 

Claudette looked stricken. "Oh no," she whispered, frowning down at the cute little yellow dress. After a quiet second of contemplation she looked up and smiled. "I don't need to eat a burger, Mama. I don't want Grandpa to be sad."

 

Stiles grabbed the purple lunch bag off the counter, stuffing it in the mostly empty Power Ranger bag. “But, if you do get your dress dirty, it can just go in the wash, so you play in dirty stuff all you want.” There was no way Stiles was about to instill the fear of making messes into her child.

 

Claudette darted her wide brown eyes from Stiles to Desiree to her dress before she pulled on one of her dark pigtails. “Tomorrow I’ll wear clothes I can get messy,” she finally decided, her tone triumphant. “I can eat burgers and get dirty in my Spongebob shirt.”

 

“A wise compromise,” Desiree said with a soft smile. “Are you ready to go?”

 

Claudette nodded, fumbling with the straps of her backpack. Stiles slipped her own shoes on and kissed Desiree on the cheek. “See you after work.”

 

Desiree nodded and crouched down to kiss Claudette's forehead. “Have a good first day at school.”

 

“Okay, Mama,” she said with a bright, toothy grin. Breaking a little, Desiree couldn’t help but pull her closer and plant a dozen more little kisses all over her face, much to Claudette’s giggly delight. “What do you do if anyone pushes you or pulls your hair or says something mean?” she asked without letting her go. Claudette draped her arms around Desiree’s shoulders and hummed.

 

“Call you so you can arrest them?”

 

“That’s right. In the meantime you should tell a teacher.”

 

The child nodded, and then wriggled back to pat Desiree on the belly. “Bye bye baby. Bye bye Mama.”

 

“I’ll see you when school is over. Now go with Mom, we don’t want you to be late.”

 

Stiles took her hand, and they went outside to the car. Desiree waved from the window, blowing one last kiss as they rattled on down the road.

 

In the backseat Claudette was quiet for all but a soft hum of a song Stiles didn’t know, and when Stiles glanced in the rear view mirror to see her staring out the window. “Are you excited for your first day of kindergarten?” Stiles asked, and when she glanced back again Claudette was smiling.

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“I’m excited for you too. Did you know that in German, kindergarten means ‘child garden’? Maybe you’ll turn into a flower when you get there.”

 

“Maybe,” Claudette said. She was always fairly quiet in the car, had been since she was just a baby. Stiles grinned at her through the window.

 

“If you get a booboo or anything, go right to Uncle Scotty, alright? He’ll fix you up good as new. And I hear he has really cool band aids. Not that you should go there just to get a band aid though, just... if you need one, he's got some cool ones.”

 

“I will, Mommy.”

 

“And if you make any new friends, your mama and I want to hear all about them tonight, okay? She’ll pick you up after school, and I’ll be home by dinner, and we can talk about it then.”

 

“You smell nervous, Mommy.”

 

As they pulled in the school parking lot, Stiles hopped out and yanked open the back door. “I just hope you’ll have a good day. Come on, I'll walk you to your class.”

 

Claudette shook her head, already unbuckling her seat belt.

 

“I can find it Mommy,” she said, patting Stiles’ hand. “Uncle Scott brought me and showed me last week.”

 

Stiles bit her lip and looked toward the front doors. She helped Claudette out and felt a lump form in her throat. “I think you should let me walk you in.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Desiree picked up on the second ring and glanced up at the sheriff across the office from her, coffee mug lifted halfway to his mouth. “Stiles? Did you send her off?”

 

“I burst into tears in the hallway,” Stiles sniffled on the other end, and Desiree put the phone on speaker so her father could hear. “I don’t think I can let her go off like this every day, Dee. I’ve got a couple degrees; I can just homeschool her. It can’t be too hard - anything would be easier than this. I feel like my heart is tearing in two.”

 

“It’ll get easier, I’m sure. Just don’t stay in the school parking lot all day. You have work, and it would probably creep the kids out.”

 

The sheriff stepped closer, grinning. “And don’t try to tell them you’re the janitor. I tried that on your first day at kindergarten, and it doesn’t work.”

 

Desiree choked on her sip of coffee, pressing a hand to her mouth to keep from dribbling. She stared wide-eyed at her boss, totally missing whatever drawn-out whine Stiles was issuing from the other end of the line. “Stiles,” she cut her off, “I forbid you from doing anything like that. Go to work.”

 

“But I won’t be able to see her till like five thirty! I’ll just call in sick and pick her up after school.”

 

“This isn’t any different then when we took her to daycare, alright? Now go to work or I swear I’ll send Anderson over there and tell him that an alpha is hanging around the kindergarten class.”

 

“Desiree,” Stiles whined, and John shook his head and laughed for an entire minute after Desiree hung up.

 

“It’ll only get worse, you know,” he warned her with the biggest shit-eating grin she’d ever seen on his face. “She’ll chain her to the house after graduation just to make sure she doesn’t leave.”

 

“She’s getting all this from you, you know. When Stiles went to college she told me that you threatened to stay there for a week after you dropped her off.” Desiree rolled her eyes as she took out some of her papers. It was back on desk duty for her, since both her mate and her boss refused to let her go out on patrol this far along.

 

“Can you blame her?” John chuckled. “Claudette’s the kind of kid who just seems so unbelievably together that you want to look out for her twice as much.”

 

Desiree’s expression softened. “She’s too mature. I almost wish she’d depend on us a little more. She’s always been so good.”

 

"Ah well, you can't complain about having a perfect kid." The sheriff patted her on the shoulder and ducked out to head back to his own office before Desiree could call him out on the donut he'd sneaked from the secretary's box.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stiles insisted on drawing a bubble bath when bedtime loomed ahead, and Claudette didn't protest, quiet and indulgent of her mother's fretful nature. Desiree rolled her eyes at the display and at Stiles' crooning chatter, but still found herself preparing a bowl of strawberry ice cream topped with chocolate sauce just how Claudette liked.

 

When she got to the bathroom with the ice cream, Claudette was already in the bath. The alpha tickled her until she squealed. They both caught sight of the bowl of ice cream and Claudette reached out her hands.

 

"How do you know it's for you?" Desiree said with an eyebrow raised. "Maybe I'm going to eat this whole bowl all by myself."

 

Claudette giggled and lowered her hands back into the tub. "You don't like strawberry, Mama. You just like vanilla. But if you want it you can have it." And Stiles ruffled her hair with fierce affection while Desiree was forced to reconsider the likelihood of Claudette being chained to the house by the time graduation rolled around.

 

Desiree handed the bowl over, and Claudette put it on the edge of the tub to eat it. “How are you five? What five year old is willing to share their ice cream?” Stiles asked, running her fingers through the kid’s dark hair.

 

“Do you want some too, Mommy?” she asked self-consciously, and Stiles whimpered.

 

“No thanks, baby. It’s all for you for being such a brave girl today. Brave little girls who can go to their first day of school without crying as much as their mothers get to eat all the ice cream by themselves.”

 

“Did you cry?” Claudette asked, looking stricken.

 

“No. Maybe. Tell us more about your teacher. Is she nice?”

 

Claudette nodded, stuffing more ice cream into her mouth. “She says that Wednesday is show and tell. Can I bring Fluffy?” Fluffy was the hampster that she has had for about six months and lived in a cage in her room.

 

“Okay, but you have to bring food and water for him, and clean out his carrier when you get home.”

 

“Yes, Mama,” she answered instantly, chocolate sauce smeared over her teeth in a grin.

 

 

 

 

After she’d dressed and brushed her teeth, Desiree scooped her up with both arms and carried her up the stairs while Stiles put away the dishes. Once she’d finished and joined her wife and daughter in the pastel green bedroom, they turned the nightlight on and curled up on either side of her to say goodnight.

 

“Do you want us to read a story?” Stiles asked, scanning over the books on her shelf.

 

“Can you… can you tell me a story about you two? One of the boys today talked about his parents meeting. I don’t know how you met.”

 

Desiree and Stiles shared a look over her head and slowly tucked themselves around her under the duvet. “Well,” Stiles began, “it was about a million years ago, and your mama was a brand new shiny policewoman and I knew from the very first moment I saw her that I wanted to be the one to pester her for the rest of our lives…”

**Author's Note:**

> Our feelings about the nature of female alpha/female omega impregnation are: We were tired of reading omegaverse fics where f/f alpha/omega couples were mentioned in passing as producing children, yet never written out. Also that if you can read mpreg, there's absolutely no reason f/f pregnancies (or, as we lovingly like to call it, fempreg) should be "too unbelievable". And we hope to find more soon!
> 
> Title from My Brightest Diamond's We Added It Up: _flying neutrinos fly through my skin, my hair, my feet / what a pair of disagreeable agreeables / your hands, my hips, your grip / what a fit of exhausting inexhaustibles_
> 
> If you are so inclined, feel free to follow [Byacolate's Tumblr](http://byacolate.tumblr.com/) and [Tyger's Twitter](https://twitter.com/Whitetyger123).


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